


And though they be but little, they are fierce

by SarcasticSmiler



Series: And Though They Be [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Badly, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, actually canon has pretty much gone out of the window, contains elements of abuse, do not fuck with hobbits though, hobbits are little squidgy balls of epic, hobbits have a similar age span as dwarves, seriously slow burn, warnings added to relevant chapters, you will lose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4733627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSmiler/pseuds/SarcasticSmiler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS PARTICULAR VERSION HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED AND A NEW (hopefully better) VERSION IS CURRENTLY BEING WRITTEN.</p><p>Erebor is not a safe and prosperous place anymore. Thorin has no choice but to smuggle the golden omegas of Durins line out and trust them to the grey wizards keeping.<br/>Through the years he struggles to bring Erebor back to its former glory, while the golden omegas settle in the safest place in Middle Earth that Gandalf can find.<br/>Decades pass and at Gandalf's urging Thorin sends out messages requesting help reviving the land around the Lonely Mountain, those that answer the call aren't quite what any of the dwarves were expecting.</p><p>(not a great summary I know but I'm still hashing out the details of the story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this is a tweeked Shakespeare quote, if you're wondering at all.
> 
> I warn you now my hobbit knowledge comes from google, fanfiction, the peter jackson films and whatever pops up on my tumblr dash. I've not read the books since the first Lord of the Rings film came out. So if I cock something up spectacularly either let me know or just accept it as a stupid headcanon.
> 
> In this 'verse Alphas and Omegas only exist in Dwarves and Hobbits, it has something to do with their creators being Mahal and Yavanna.
> 
> This whole thing has come about from me thinking 'what if hobbits were actually really dangerous?'
> 
> Frankly this is a fic I'd rather read than write, but if I didn't write it I'd never read it, so constructive criticism is greatly welcomed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escaping Erebor

The night was almost pitch black as two hooded figures emerged from the side of the mountain. A pale crescent moon barely offering enough light to find the Grey Wizard waiting for them.

“Gandalf,” the taller of the two breathed a sigh of relief upon reaching the wizard, “You came.”

“Of course I did, young Master Dwarf, with the state your grandfather is in it would’ve been unwise for me to leave your call unheeded.”

“You have my gratitude, nonetheless, for answering my call so swiftly. You are certain you’ve found somewhere they will be welcome and safe?”

“Where I am taking them, well, let us just say there is no safer place in all of Middle Earth, and none there would turn away omegas seeking shelter.”

“Then I entrust them to your keeping,” stepping aside the young dwarf ushered forward his companion, being careful not to jostle the precious bundle he was carrying.

“Thorin?” the smaller dwarf hesitated.

“Nadadith you must go,” the older urged, “I’ve failed in keeping you safe from him for too long, I refuse to fail our sister-son also.”

“But…”

“No, take him and run. Go with the wizard, be safe, be happy. Everyone will be informed that the babe died in the womb.”

“And me? He’ll search for me when he realises I’m no longer in my cell.”

“Perhaps you fell in the mines? After all they’re dangerous places to be when you are unfamiliar with them and running from the guards,” Thorin shrugged, trying for nonchalant.

“I shall miss you, nadad.”

“And I you,” Thorin smiled, brushing a lock of his younger brother’s golden hair aside he briefly pressed their foreheads together.

“Come young one, we must leave,” Gandalf pressed, helping the unusually light dwarf safely mount the patiently waiting stallion beside them, before swinging himself up behind him.

“If ever… _when_ Erebor becomes safe again, I shall send for you,” Thorin promised, his brother looked down, offering him a watery smile before the grey wizard urged the large stallion to run and show them the meaning of haste.

When the sound of hooves finally disappeared into the distance, Thorin slipped back inside the mountain to face his grandfather’s inevitable anger. But Thorin found that for the first time in decades, he didn’t care. The golden treasures of the line of Durin, their golden omegas, were gone. The wizard had promised to keep them safe. It was this that allowed Thorin to pull back his shoulders and hold his head high as he marched through the softly lit corridors of Erebor to face the angry, gold mad alpha his grandfather had become.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The golden omegas arrive in the Shire

The heavens had opened by the time they reached the Shire, a land populated by what Gandalf had told him were called Hobbits. A small hardy folk, the young dwarf was promised they’d offer him and his nephew shelter and protection.

No safer place in all of Middle Earth, Gandalf had said.

Frerin felt hard pressed to believe that as, hunched over the babe tucked safely in his thick coat, he squinted against the driving rain. Even through the dull grey cast by the weather the endless green rolling hills were apparent to him. The only things breaking up the green were fields full to bursting with crops of all kinds, little gardens surrounded by little fences and wooden doors and _windows._ How was this place safe, he wondered, when there wasn’t a single aspect about it that he could see that suggested elements of defence? They could be over run in moments. The fences were flimsy, the doors made of easily battered down wood, and the _windows_ , by Mahal, the windows made of glass, they could so easily be shattered, an enemy slipping through the large hole left behind to invade the defenceless home.

The deep chuckle at his back made Frerin realise he’d said that out loud.

“They are far from defenceless, young master, though the hobbits may appear small and soft, do not underestimate them. They have a temper to rival even a dragon when sufficiently riled and have a deeper connection to the earth than even your miners digging in its depths could ever understand.”

Frerin made a vaguely agreeing noise, eyes still flitting about, cataloguing every weakness and wondering at the madness of wizards.

“Ah, here we are,” Gandalf eventually declared as their stallion came to a stop before a little fence in front of a round door as green as the hill surrounding it, “Come, let us be out of this rain.”

Sliding from the horse’s back with some help from the wizard, Frerin checked on the still sleeping bundle tucked against his chest before following through the small gate and up the little stone steps to the door.

At Gandalf’s knock the door was opened by a heavily pregnant hobbit.

“Gandalf!” she exclaimed, joy suffusing her entire being as she hugged the large wizard to her.

“My dear Belladonna, you’ve positively blossomed since last we spoke.”

“Oh hush,” she beamed, “Now where is this poor dwarf you promised me?”

Stepping out from behind the wizard, Frerin offered a cautious bow, “Frerin, at your service.”

“Oh you poor dear!” Belladonna cried, “In immediately with you, out of this rain and out of that sodden cloak. Bungo! Bungo dear set the boilers to heating and the kettle to boiling!”

Frerin quickly found himself ushered into the hobbit’s warm home, his cloak taken and hung on a nearby hook and his coat being tugged from his arms. A sound of distress escaped his throat at this causing Belladonna to stop fussing immediately as she took a closer look at the bundle Frerin was clutching protectively to his chest.

“Gandalf!” she turned on her large, bare heel to fix the wizard with a glare, “What is the meaning of this?!”

“Well I…”

“A _babe_ , Gandalf! You brought a _babe_ out into that atrocious weather?! Did it not occur to you to rest a while in Bree for the storms to pass before venturing to Hobbiton?”

“I merely wished to bring them to safety as soon as possible, dear Bella,” Gandalf placated.

“’Merely wished’” Belladonna mocked, before poking Gandalf’s chest, “If that child falls ill from trekking through that storm I’ll show you the consequences of your ‘merely wished’.”

“He’ll be fine, dear lady,” Gandalf tried again, stepping back slightly as his senses picked up the earth’s energy as it responded to the pregnant omega’s temper.

“He better be,” Belladonna’s eyes narrowed slightly before her face brightened again as she turned back to a startled Frerin, “So what is the little one’s name? Is he yours?”

“N-no, he’s not mine. He’s my sister’s,” Frerin answered, loosening his hold slightly as the hobbit cooed over his nephew, careful fingers stroking over the soft, golden down on his cheek. “She named him Fíli.”

“Such a little darling.”

“My dear, all is ready as you asked,” a rather plump hobbit seemed to appear out of nowhere, making Frerin jump.

“Dear Bungo, you must meet our guests, this is Frerin and Fíli,” Belladonna introduced.

“Bungo Baggins, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the hobbit smiled with a slight bow of the head.

“Thank you for welcoming us into your home,” Frerin said, unsure of the thoroughly unassuming hobbit before him. His scent clearly marked him as an alpha, yet his demeanour was so laid back, so welcoming, so…just so _unthreatening_ that Frerin didn’t know what to do. He was use to the aggressive alphas the dwarvish race seemed to excel at producing in large numbers, even his caring older brother couldn’t escape it.

“It’s no problem at all,” Bungo reassured, thumbs hooked in his suspenders as he rocked gently on his heels, “Now come, let’s get you out of those wet clothes and into a nice hot bath. I’m sure my Belladonna will be happy to fuss over you while I make the tea and heat some milk for the little one. We only have cow’s milk though at present, I’m afraid. I hope that’s alright, if it’s not I’m sure Hamfast nextdoor could spare some goat’s milk.”

“No, no, whatever you have will be fine, thank you.”

“Splendid, now off you go,” Bungo shooed.

“I do not ‘fuss’, my love,” Belladonna chided, even though Bungo could see her fingers already twitching towards the blond dwarf and his nephew.

“Oh course not, dear,” Bungo agreed with a smile, pressing a kiss to his omega’s plump cheek as she passed.

“Oh, off to the kitchen with you, you silly old hobbit,” Bella tittered as she ushered the dwarf into the smial’s main bathroom.

“Gandalf, would you care to join me in the kitchen? I fear it may be awhile before any omegas grace us with their presence again.”

“I’m sure you are quite right, lead the way, Master Baggins.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Now hand me young Fíli then off with your clothes and into the tub,” Belladonna ordered, holding her arms out for the babe after closing the door. Frerin hesitated, the forthright omega unsettling him almost as much as the laid back alpha.

“I’m as likely to harm my own young one as I am yours,” Bella coaxed softly. Reluctantly Frerin handed over his precious bundle to her, Fíli gurgled happily as he was settled in the hobbit omega’s arms.

“Soft as a rose blossom, aren’t you petal?” she cooed once again stroking his downy cheek.

Frerin snorted at the idea of a hardy dwarf being compared to a flower of all things, even if his nephew _was_ destined to be a soft omega. Fighting out of his boots, trousers and underthings, the golden omega finally slid into the steaming tub. Belladonna clucked her tongue at him when she saw the state he was in.

“What in Yavanna’s name did they do to you?” she fussed, coming closer to look over the skinny dwarf in the tub. “I can count your ribs, for goodness sakes! And are those bruises? No, no, this just won’t do.”

“It wasn’t their fault, grandfather is ill,” Frerin defended, sinking lower in the water to hide the healing bruises littering his skin.

“Not their fault? Oh what a load of codswallop. But not to worry, they won’t find you here and we’ll get you all fattened up, nice and healthy. My Bungo can take care of any unsavoury types that might come calling, though frankly unsavoury types rarely make it past the Bounders. Now wash up, little dove.”

Frerin tried to protest but Belladonna had already turned to the nearby basin, humming as she unwrapped Fíli, easing him into the small washbowl to give the babe his first true bath. His little cheeks coming up rosy pink under their golden down once the grime had been washed away.

“Do you think your other clothes will be as wet as these ones?” Bella asked, poking at Frerin’s sodden clothes with her toe, once both the dwarves under her charge were wrapped up in soft, thick towels.

“Other clothes?” Frerin questioned, “I’m sorry but these are all the clothes I have.”

“All the clo…goodness! Didn’t you pack anything to bring with you?”

“We didn’t have time. Our departure was a rather rushed affair,” cheeks heating in embarrassment Frerin averted his gaze to the slate floor of the bathroom.

“Dwarven alphas,” Bella scoffed, “I’d like to smack a few of their heads together. No matter, come with me, I’m sure we can find something of Bungo’s to fit you till we can purchase something more suitable to your dwarven tastes.”

“My brother did the best he could,” Frerin protested.

“I’m sure he did, dove, but he still left you woefully unprepared for travelling.”

Unfortunately Frerin couldn’t argue against that as he took his freshly scrubbed nephew back into his arms, little fingers coming up to grab at his braids. Making sure both of their towels were secure he followed Belladonna through the curved hallways of her home.

“I’ve this bedroom all prepared for you, though I wasn’t told you’d be bringing a babe with you. But no matter, get yourself settled and I’ll be back in a jiffy with clothes and a cot for the young one.”

Taking a tentative seat on the edge of the mattress, Frerin eyed what was to be his new home. The bed was large enough for a dwarf, with a soft mattress, fresh linens and a colourful patchwork quilt. A thick white candle sat in a holder on the small bedside table, another sat on the mantelpiece above the small, unlit, fireplace in front of which was a beautiful wooden rocking chair. The only other furniture in the room being a chest at the foot of the bed, a small dresser, and a writing desk, its stool tucked neatly beneath it. He was pleased to note the window was small enough that an orc or alpha dwarf wouldn’t be able to fit their shoulders through.

With a sigh Frerin lent back against the soft pillows, looking down at Fíli gumming at the end of his braid, eyelids drooping sleepily. For the sake of the little dwarfling, Frerin prayed that they’d be as safe here as Gandalf had promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sounding at all interesting yet? Or should I just quit before I get too far?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented or left kudos on the previous chapter, such a response was rather unexpected and a very nice surprise. Now I've just gotta make sure I don't cock this up.

It was some months into their stay that Frerin finally came face to face with a hint of the power hobbit alphas possessed and realised that, yes, perhaps this was the safest place in all of Middle Earth.

It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining and a pleasant chill to the air, hinting at autumn’s approach. Frerin was sat at the kitchen table, cup of tea and plate of half eaten scones before him as he cradled Fíli in his arms. The babe greedily suckling on the teat of the bottle his loving uncle held for him.

“Perhaps we could do a bit of scrumping today,” Belladonna suggested, delicately licking the last of the bacon grease from her fingertips.

“Scrumping?” Frerin asked, looking up with a frown, “Bungo would tell you off for licking your fingers, you know.”

“Oh hush, what my dear Bungo doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides I’m still a Took, we’re allowed our indelicacies,” Belladonna defended before promptly stealing half a scone from Frerin’s plate. “Anyway, yes, scrumping. I saw some lovely looking apples the other day on my way back from the market. It’ll be a simple matter to just hop over the fence and empty a few branches into my skirts.”

“Hopping for you is no longer a ‘simple matter’,” Frerin stated, looking pointedly at Belladonna’s large stomach.

“Pish posh, hopping is always a simple matter, besides it might coax the little one to finally make their appearance,” Bella said, hand rubbing her swollen belly, she was almost two weeks past her due date now and beginning to feel rather uncomfortable and irritated.

“Perhaps it’s a sign of the child’s strong Tookish blood?” Frerin suggested as Fíli let go of the bottle with a _pop_ , hoisting his young nephew to his shoulder, Frerin began gently patting his back, hoping for _just_ a burp this time. “I’m sure the Baggins relatives will be _thrilled_ to learn how much of you the child has inherited.”

In his time since arriving in the Shire, Frerin had learnt two very important things. The first being that the Baggins clan was never late, nor were they early, they arrived precisely when they were meant to. The second was that the Tooks were also convinced that they were never late, nor early, however they arrived precisely when _they_ meant to, regardless of if it was when you specified or not.

Either way neither clan was particularly fond of the other, and Frerin was still trying to figure out how Bungo and Belladonna managed to become a bonded pair. It must’ve seemed like a doomed love affair when they started courting.

“Mm, well we certainly can’t have them thinking any child of mine will be all stuffy like that Baggins lot,” Bella huffed, levering herself from the table she began collecting the plates.

“But you _are_ one of those Bagginses now, don’t forget,” Frerin pointed out, wincing slightly when Fíli gave a rather sharp tug to a braid.

“Semantics,” Bella waved him away, “I only ma… _oh_.”

“Bella?” Frerin stood from the table, concerned as Belladonna’s hand flew to her stomach, her body hunching over slightly as a grimace flitted across her face.

“Be a dear and grab Bell for me, would you please, dove? And perhaps send their eldest, Hamson, down to the market to fetch Bungo,” Bella gasped.

“Of course, do you need me to help you to your room first?”

“No, no, I can make the short walk there myself, not to fret.”

Frerin watched Bella waddle in the direction of her room for a moment, before situating Fíli more securely in his arms and practically running to their neighbour’s door.

“Frerin, good morning,” Hamfast greeted the omega dwarf with a smile, his young fauntling, Halfred, perched on his hip, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Bella, she’s finally having the pains,” Frerin gasped, the hobbit alpha’s calming presence helping to sooth his nerves somewhat.

“Ah, not to worry, we’ve had everything ready for a while. Bell!” Hamfast called back into his home, “Its Belladonna’s time!”

“I’ll be there in just a moment,” the midwife omega’s voice drifted back to them from the kitchen.

“Bella also asked if we could possibly send Hamson down to the market to fetch Bungo?”

“Of course, of course. Let me just put this one down and we’ll send his older brother on his way.”

Not five minutes later, Frerin was carrying a basket of supplies on one hand, Fíli cradled in the other as he followed Bell back to Bag End. Hamson’s curls disappearing over the hill as he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Heading into Bag End’s master bedroom they found Bella calmly lounging against the pillows fluffed up at the head of the bed.

“How are we doing, miss Belladonna?” Bell asked as she bustled about the room, taking the basket from Frerin she set everything she needed up by the bed.

“I’m fine, just anxious to finally have my baby in my arms, not my belly,” Bella huffed a laugh before wincing as another contraction hit.

“Of course you are, dear,” Bell said, feeling Bella’s stomach to check the position of the newest Baggins, “Put the babe down, Frerin, and you can assist me.”

“But…” Frerin hesitated, arms tightening on Fíli, he stared wide eyed at the hobbit omegas.

“Come now, dove,” Bella coaxed, “This’ll likely be no different to when Fíli was born.”

“I-I wasn’t present at his birth,” Frerin confessed causing the hobbits to turn and gawk at him.

“Not present?” Bell asked, “Why ever not?”

“I wasn’t allowed,” Frerin muttered, not particularly willing to admit the fact that he’d been locked in his cell close to the treasury by Thror for not submitting and welcoming his grandfather into his bed during his heat.

“Well no matter,” Bell clucked, “You can be of help now.”

Reluctantly Frerin settled Fíli in the cot by the bed, giving him an acorn shaped rattle to play with, which was promptly shoved in Fíli’s mouth as he gurgled happily at his uncle.

It was barely fifteen minutes later that Bungo appeared in the doorway. Looking more agitated than Frerin had ever seen him as he watched his omega pace the room with the help of Bell’s steading hands. It was an odd thing to see, Frerin could feel the waves of agitation and the alpha’s desperate need to protect his pained mate rolling off of Bungo. Yet the only outward signs were his slightly rumbled clothing, reddened cheeks from the exertion of a quick march back to Bag End and the slight twitching of his pointed ears at every creak and groan the smial suddenly seemed to be emitting.

Frerin was rather perplexed, he’d heard stories of the havoc an alpha could cause when their mate went into labour. Entire rooms destroyed or platoons of guardsmen left bloodied and bruised in the dust of the training grounds. Yet Bungo just stood there, bright hazel eyes tracking Belladonna’s every step. His lip twitched upwards for a moment when his omega gasped at another contraction. It was the closest thing to a true alpha snarl that Frerin had ever seen come from a hobbit. Apparently, what was a slight twitch to Frerin was considered a full snarl to hobbits.

Bell spun round, wagging a finger at the alpha, “Bungo Baggins, out of this room immediately if that’s the way you’re going to behave. Go and do something productive with all that ridiculousness.”

“A playroom for the children would be nice, my love,” Belladonna gasped.

With a curt nod Bungo jerkily straightened his waistcoat before turning and leaving the room. Moments later the slight creaks and groans that had been pervading the air grew louder and rather more ominous to Frerin. Belladonna just rolled her eyes.

“And he calls me the fuss pot,” she huffed fondly, “Silly old hobbit.”

Frerin just stood there, staring at the empty doorway, utterly confused.

“You alright there, dove?” Bella asked.

“Isn’t he going to break something or…or brawl with another alpha?” he asked.

“Oh goodness no!” Bell exclaimed, rather scandalised at such a notion, “How terribly rude and uncouth! Oh no. No, no, no. We tend to be more civilised and proper than those folk who go smacking each other with swords at the slightest disagreement.”

Belladonna just snickered at Frerin’s expression before another, stronger contraction gripped her middle.

“Oh Yavanna, that’s not pleasant,” she groaned.

“Help me get her back on the bed would you please, Frerin dear?”

Two hours, a surprising amount of cursing from the labouring hobbit, and increasingly louder bangs from the corridor later and Frerin was cleaning up the newest Baggins. A tiny little thing, already possessing a head of damp curls and a smattering of fluff on his adorably large feet.

“Master Baggins!” Frerin called, a grin taking over his face at the thoroughly unamused expression scrunching up the youngest Baggins’ face.

“Frerin? Has everything gone well?” Bungo asked, wiping smudges of dirt from his waistcoat.

“You have a little omega,” Frerin beamed, handing the fauntling over into his father’s gentle hands.

“An omega, Yavanna be praised,” Bungo breathed, staring in awe at the tiny babe in his arms, “And Belladonna?”

“Perfectly fine, Bungo dear, at least I will be once I catch my breath,” Bella called from the bed where Bell was serving her a rejuvenating cup of tea.

“Have you settled on a name?” Bungo asked as he and Frerin approached the bed.

“Bilbo,” Belladonna answered, an indulgent smile curling her lips as she watched her husband and child bonding.

Pressing a gentle kiss to Bilbo’s brow, Bungo headed for the cot.

“Hello Fíli,” he cooed at the drowsy dwarfling, “This is your new little cousin, Bilbo.”

Frerin couldn’t stop the startled breath that left his lips as Bungo laid Bilbo next to Fíli in the cot. The small golden omega happily blowing spit bubbles at his new companion.

Smiling, Bungo turned to Frerin, “For as long as you wish, you are, both of you, Baggins omegas of Bag End.”

“Thank you,” Frerin croaked, completely overcome with the ease with which Bungo had claimed them as his own, as kin.

This was what a family was supposed to be, he thought as he excused himself to go and change and gather a suitable afternoon tea for them all. Caring and close knit, not the fractured thing he once thought meant family back in Erebor.

Frerin’s thoughts and feet came to a sudden halt as he turned the corner. The corridor his bedroom was on seemed longer, with at least four extra doors that he could see. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to make the sudden appearance of the flawless new corridor and rooms disappear again. But it didn’t work.

In something of a daze he walked back to the master bedroom.

“There are four new rooms,” he blurted, causing the three hobbits to turn to him.

“Only four?” Bella asked, now cradling a sleeping babe in each arm.

“That was very controlled of you, master Baggins,” Bell added.

“Of course it was,” Bungo puffed up indignantly, “I’m not some blockheaded Bracegirdle from Hardbottle, only capable of inappropriately placed and shaped smials.”

“You did all that?” Frerin queried, still rather confused.

“Of course I did,” Bungo huffed, “It would be highly improper to assuage one’s alpha instincts in any other fashion at such a time.”

“How?” Frerin asked.

“A simple shifting of the earth and coaxing of wood growth. A negligible use of power to be quite fair.”

“A simple…” Frerin stuttered, “Do hobbit alphas have magic?”

In his months of living in the Shire, trying to adapt to the laid back alphas, he’d never seen such a blatant display of power. And Bungo had called it ‘negligible’!

“Magic? Goodness no,” Bungo chuckled, “I merely utilised my connection to the earth as all our kind may do. My requests were heeded without any trouble.”

Struck somewhat speechless Frerin could only nod in vague understanding. If Bungo could shift the earth and create new space within it without a thought, then perhaps there truly was something to Gandalf’s conviction that the Shire was the safest place in all of Middle Earth. You’d have to be positively mad to go against a race that had such a deep connection to the earth that they could command and control the very nature of it.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Thorin sat in Thrain’s receiving room, glaring at the crackling flames dancing in the large stone fireplace in an attempt to keep his gaze from following the worried pacing of his beta father.

“The search teams have had no luck?” Thrain asked again for the fifth time since Thorin had arrived.

“No,” the alpha grit out between clenched teeth, his hands fisting so tightly his knuckles had long since turned white. Barely reigning in the notorious alpha temper of the Durin line, Thorin glanced at his father, “The teams haven’t found anything. They think the river must’ve taken the body from the mountain.”

“Oh my poor Frerin, my little golden one. Lost, lost to me forever,” Thrain babbled.

Taking deep breaths Thorin kept his temper in check, his father didn’t deserve it if he did lash out. He didn’t deserve to have the alpha take out his guilt, worry, and frustrations on him. The beta had broken as their family had fractured around them. His lucid moments becoming less frequent.

“They’ll keep looking though, surely,” Thrain pleaded, wringing his shaking hands as he looked to his eldest child.”

“Of course, father,” Thorin soothed, even though Thror had called off the search for Frerin the month prior. But he had no desire to inform his father of this, the strain may only crack him further.

“Has Dis had the baby yet?” the beta asked, eyes starting to become unfocused as his lucidity began to slip away like sand between his fingers.

“Not yet, father,” Thorin sighed, rising from his seat he led Thrain to his armchair by the fire, “Rest, all will be well.”

Bidding his father goodbye, Thorin headed back to his own rooms. Barely managing to close the doors behind him before a snarl ripped from his throat and his clenched fist made contact with the wall. For his father’s sake he wished he’d never had to send the golden omegas of Durin’s line away. He _knew_ he’d made the right choice, but right now that knowledge didn’t exactly make him feel any better.

With another growl the alpha prince snatched up his sword with a bloodied fist and stormed out of his rooms. He needed to release the alpha aggression thrumming along his nerve endings. The new recruits he knew were being put through their paces that morning sounded like the perfect opportunity to vent.

With a feral grin, Thorin stalked to the training grounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, this chapter was suppose to be about Thorin in Erebor, but as I was writing this at work it didn't really turn out that way. This gives some idea as to what hobbit alphas can do but not overly much, we're all kinda like Frerin right now in that we're learning as we go along (even me).
> 
> I'll warn you now, I'm a rather sporadic poster. I lose track of days too often to be able to keep up a regular posting routine so I tend to post as I write.  
> If I've not done anything for a while and you think I need a bit of a prod or you have a question, idea or just want to pester me I can generally be found on tumblr most days - http://sarcasticsmilerrandomness.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About five years have passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm time jumping. This'll be a fairly common occurrence till the omegas grow up I think.
> 
> My thanks to anyone who reads this, and to everyone who left kudos or a comment on the previous chapter.

_About Five Years Later_

“Bilbo and Fíli Baggins! I thought I saw your sticky mitts peaking over the sill,” Marigold Chubb blustered, hands planted on her hips as she eyed the giggling pair munching on warm blueberry muffins, freshly pilfered from her kitchen window sill. “What would your alpha have to say?”

“What Papa doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Bilbo piped up with all the certainty and authority a five year old faunt could muster.

“Oh is that right?” Marigold lifted a sceptical eyebrow, fighting a smile as she looked at the vigorously nodding omegas.

“Yep!” Fíli beamed, “Least tha’s what Auntie Bella says.”

“Of course she does,” Marigold huffed a laugh, “And of course he won’t suspect a thing, certainly he won’t spot your blueberry stained fingers, or the crumbs on your shirts and Fíli’s face fuzz.”

The young omegas looked at one another in childish horror, chubby little fingers quickly, and clumsily, wiping crumbs off each other. Marigold shook her head fondly as they made more of a mess, Fíli now sporting a blue smudge across his cheek and Bilbo’s cream shirt stained with the same. Crouching down beside the boys, she picked a few bits of grass and leaves from their hair before whispering conspiringly, “If you run home now, you may have time for a quick wash before Bungo gets back from the market.”

With eager little nods, they jumped to their feet before darting off, hand in hand.

“Bye Missus Chubb!” Bilbo waved over his shoulder.

“Thank you for the muffins Missus Chubb!” Fíli added.

Marigold watched until they disappeared around the bend before heading back to her kitchen to replenish the stock of muffins on the sill, ready for the next fauntlings who dared to try their luck. It was a good training exercise for them, especially for the omegas, though they thought of it as a game. The promise of pilfered sweets encouraged the young ones to nurture their fledgling bonds with the earth as they found ways to move around unseen and unheard. If it wasn’t for the giggling and little fingers that lingered too long, Marigold probably wouldn’t have known that the little Baggins omegas were even there. The pair of them had too much Tookish inquisitiveness and smarts for their own good sometimes. Nonetheless, she looked forward to seeing how the strong-willed omegas would bloom as they grew, though she did send up a prayer to Yavanna that Hobbiton would be ready for them when the Tookish omegas ran amok. Hopefully by the time they hit their tweens, some of Bungo’s Baggins sensibility would’ve finally settled on them.

-x-

“And what have you two been up to?” Frerin asked as the lads came tumbling through the gate, “You’re both as mucky as a miner.”

“Sshhh!” little fingers pressed against giggling lips, “Uncle Bungo’s not‘llowed to know.”

“Not allowed to know what?” Frerin dropped his voice to a whisper, managing a smile even though his belly twinged uncomfortably.

“We had muffins!” Bilbo blurted, “Swiped ‘em from Missus Chubbs’ winda!”

“Did you now?” Bungo’s voice drifted to them from the road.

Frerin couldn’t help but laugh at the lads, both staring at him wide eyed like little startled rabbits.

“I think you’ve been caught red handed, lads, or maybe its blue fingered in this case,” Frerin chuckled before pressing a hand against his lower abdomen in a vain attempt to ease the deep ache that had settled there.

“Frerin have you had your tea yet?” Bungo asked, a concerned note to his voice as he felt the dwarven omega’s forehead, his protective instincts unfurling within at the omega’s obvious discomfort.

“Adad?” Fíli’s voice was tentative as he moved closer to the older dwarf, his tongue still tripping slightly over the dwarven syllables. It was a title the young omega had adopted for his uncle as soon as he’d been taught it. For months Frerin had tried to correct him, suppling the Khuzdul for uncle every time, yet his nephew was stubborn and convinced that even though their blood relation was different, Frerin was still his father, his adad, in all the ways that mattered.

“I’m fine, my little nugget, it’s just a heat, nothing to worry over,” Frerin tried to reassure his young one before turning to Bungo, “I’ve not had it yet, I was actually about to go and make a cup when these two creatures came home.”

“You stay right where you are then and I’ll go put the kettle on,” Bungo said, patting Frerin on the shoulder before heading inside to make the herbal tea that would soothe the ache of the omega’s heat.

It had taken a while to figure out the correct combination of herbs that would have a significant effect on a dwarven omega’s heats. Belladonna and Frerin had discovered early on that dwarves suffered greater pains than hobbits during their heat. Belladonna had put it down to the fact that dwarves were more solidly made than hobbits. _After all,_ she had said, _this whole business affects the muscles and a stiff, solid muscle always hurts to move more than a supple muscle_. This was generally accompanied with pokes to Frerin’s muscle bound belly and Bella’s more plump and rounded form. Frerin soon found himself complaining less, however, as the herbal teas made it possible for him to move around during his heats. In Erebor he’d have been bedridden for days with the pain, in the Shire he merely suffered from aches, slight twinges and the odd covetous look from recently matured alphas who didn’t quite have full control over their alpha instincts just yet. Bungo’s scent was generally enough to keep them at a distance. The more adventurous, however, were generally sent running for the hills with a single, slight quirk of the eyebrow and a general relaxing of the posture of the Baggins’ alpha.

Bungo, Frerin had discovered, was a rather dominant alpha and there were few, if any, outside of the Took clan that ever attempted to try his patience. Even those of the Tooks that tried were generally tweens who treated it as a game, cackling with glee when they’d pestered Bungo enough that he made the earth roll beneath their feet in warning.

“Adad, adad, look what Auntie Bella showed me,” Frerin was drawn out of his musings as Fíli tugged on his sleeve.

“And what’s that?”

Kneeling down next to a small patch of mushrooms growing around the leg of the bench Frerin was sitting on, Fíli looked nervously at Bilbo. Receiving a reassuring nod from his younger cousin Fíli reached out and gently brushed a finger over the closed cap of a mushroom. Frerin watched, a smile tugging on his lips again, as the mushroom grew bigger and slowly unfurled under his nephew’s touch. It had been a rather pleasant surprise when they discovered that Fíli could sense a connection with the earth, his omega spirit striving to adapt the lessons Belladonna taught both of the children.  Though his connection would never be as strong as a hobbits, they had discovered that the young omega had a particular affinity for those elements that grew underground. Bella had taken to teaching him to use his limited grasp to coax roots to grow and ground covered vegetables to ripen. The fact that she was encouraging him to try mushrooms surprised Frerin to some extent, but as he watched his young nephew light up with pride at the unfurled mushroom he realised that it made some form of strange sense. Bilbo, like most hobbit omegas, flourished when dealing with all that grew above ground and soaked up the sunlight. Fíli seemed to have taken something of a dwarven slant to the whole process, coaxing that which dwelt underground or in more shaded areas. It seemed fitting as Frerin vaguely remembered being told of great mushroom gardens kept deep within Erebor tended to by omegas.

“Beautifully done, little nugget,” Frerin praised.

“Bilbo can still do better,” Fíli shrugged, proud smile becoming slightly self-depreciating.

“Bilbo is a hobbit, dear one, he was created by Yavanna to have a deeper connection to the earth than other races,” Bungo piped up, setting a tea tray down upon the bench. “As a dwarf, Mahal made you a little different.”

“What if I don’ wanna be a dwarf?” Fíli pouted, poking at the fleshy mushroom.

“You can be a dwobbit!” Bilbo squealed, flinging his arms around his cousin, effectively knocking them both to the ground and wiping away the pout from Fíli’s face.

“A dwobbit?” Frerin asked, gratefully accepting a cup of steaming, sweet smelling tea from Bungo.

“You can’t growed stuff, can you Uncle Frerin?” Bilbo asked in place of answering, lounging on top of his cousin, poking his fuzzy cheeks till he blew raspberries.

“No I can’t.”

“But Fee can! So he’s a hobbit.”

“But you said he’s a dwobbit,” Bungo pointed out.

“He’s still got dwarfy ears, so he’s a dwobbit,” Bilbo stated in all seriousness, tweaking Fíli’s round ears, making the dwarfling squeak indignantly before he retaliated. Tweaking his cousin’s own pointed ears, making them twitch.

“Indeed?” Bungo murmured over the rim of his tea cup, “Well do dwobbits like gingerbread I wonder?”

“Gingerbread?” both lads perked up, a mess of limbs on the grass.

Bungo just smiled as he tilted the plate of gingerbread for the young omegas to see, chuckling with Frerin as they scrambled to their feet. Each lad grabbed a square with their blueberry stained fingers, before plonking back down on the grass between the adults.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Nadad.” Thorin winced as his hand was suddenly squeezed by the labouring alpha on the bed. “What if the babe is another one?”

“If that is the case then we will find another solution, namadith.”

“Like you did with Frerin and my first born?” Dis snarled, alpha aggression flaring as another contraction ripped through her.

“I did the best that I could at the time,” Thorin growled back, grateful that Oin and his assistants had yet to arrive.

“My own child is growing up, Mahal know where, without me.”

“He would’ve grown up without you even if I didn’t send him away!” Thorin roared, his own aggression spiking in reaction to his sister’s, “You know as well as I that as soon as Thror saw that golden hair he’d have taken the babe and locked him away in the treasury. Regardless of any protest you might make. If we were lucky he would’ve been put into Frerin’s care. But with the gold madness it is more likely your first born would’ve died on some cold pile of gold, far from loving arms.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Thorin?!”

“Could His Highness please refrain from upsetting the patient any more that this ordeal already will?” Oin called as the beta healer finally made his way into Dis’ quarters. Two assistants and her mate, all betas, trailing in after. None of them had any desire to get between the snarling alphas.

With an agitated growl Thorin tried to reign in his temper. He was here to act as a buffer between the labouring alpha’s aggression and the beta healers. Not make it worse, no matter how much he wished to rage at them all himself.

“Let us begin, shall we?” Oin stated, carefully stepping up to the bed.

Dis laboured for the better part of the day before the wails of a new dwarfling filled the bedchamber.

“The babe, what is it?” Dis asked as she collapsed against the sweat stained pillows, exhausted.

Making his way over to Oin’s assistants, Thorin gazed upon his sister-child for the first time. A relieved sigh escaping his lips at the dark hair on the baby’s head and dusting his plump cheeks.

“An alpha,” he told his sister as her mate cautiously entered the chamber again. He had been banished to the receiving room after Dis had almost broken his arm as she raged that he was to blame for the pain she was in.

“My jewel, he’s perfect,” Víli breathed, finger running over the curve of a tiny, pink ear.

“Had you chosen a name?” Thorin asked, protective instincts flaring up as the new born blinked at the blurry world around him.

“Kíli, she wanted to call him Kíli,” Víli answered, smiling as his mate’s soft snores filled the room.

“Kíli, I will make this kingdom safe for you, I will make it something you can be proud to call home,” Thorin promised, “And perhaps one day, I will make it safe enough for your brother and uncle to return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few things.  
> This was meant to have more on the dwarves of Erebor, but it seems they are stubborn and don't like being written about.  
> The line of Durin is, well, it's kinda colour coded. Alphas and Betas have dark hair (though betas are lighter than alphas) and Omegas are always blond. Durin's line are the only colour coded dwarves however, I think it has something to do with goldsickness being prevalent in the line and some god's sick idea of a temptation joke or something. I dunno yet.  
> I just had to make Dis an alpha, she didn't seem like the beta or omega type.  
> Only dwarves have betas, Hobbits have no particular need of them. It has something to do with control and emotions...I'm working on it.  
> Frerin calls Fili his 'little golden nugget', I don't know why, but it was the only thing that seemed to fit. I'm having trouble finding a suitable pet name that Frerin would call Bilbo. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd be glad to hear them.  
> Oh and if you're wondering, Fili doesn't wear shoes.  
> I'm going to hush now and see if Erebor's dwarves want to talk to me for the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another time skip. This could be classed as domestic fluff I suppose.

“Unca Thowin?” a little voice drifted to the three dwarves sitting around the low burning fire.

“What’s wrong, little one?” Thorin asked. Leaving his Captain of the Guard and unofficial Spymaster to glare at each other, he scooped his nephew up into his arms, “Did you have a nightmare?”

Kíli whimpered around the thumb in his mouth.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” settling back into his chair by the fire, Thorin shifted the young alpha into a more comfortable position against his chest.

With a shake of his head, Kíli buried his face in his uncle’s hair.

“Do you want to stay out here with us?” he asked instead. With the lad’s parents away on a diplomatic trip to the Iron Hills, Kíli had been having a harder time sleeping. A situation not entirely helped by the fact that, having turned two just the month prior, he’d recently been moved out of the nursery connected to his parents bed chamber and into his own room. A move the dwarfling still wasn’t happy about.

A nod followed by the wet _pop_ of Kíli’s thumb being pulled from his mouth was Thorin’s answer.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Nori reassured, “Nothing bad will get past us.”

Wrapping a damp little fist around one of Thorin’s braids, Kíli emerged from his uncle’s hair to turn wide brown eyes on Nori.

The Spymaster smiled softly at him, fingers twirling a blade, making it flash in the low light.

Dwalin blinked in surprise, staring at the soft tilt of Nori’s lips. The burly, tattooed alpha had never seen such a smile on Nori before, normally his default smile was sharper, more of a smirk. This smile, though, made him look like the omega he was.

Turning in Thorin’s lap, hand still tightly gripping a braid, Kíli watched the spinning blade in fascination.

“Nori, do you have to?” Thorin sighed in exasperation.

“What?” Nori’s smile morphed into his usual sharp grin, “Think I’m capable of influencing your young alpha? Teach him bad habits?”

“You’re an omega who thinks thievery and knife tricks are fun,” Dwalin suddenly growled, “Of course you’d teach him, and anyone else willing to listen, bad habits.”

“Did I touch an alpha nerve?” Nori teased, baring his teeth as his grin grew sharper.

“Enough,” Thorin huffed in annoyance, cutting Dwalin off before he could growl his retort. He didn’t know what it was between the two, but the tension hadn’t eased between them since Dwalin found out that Thorin’s unofficial Spymaster was none other than the difficult omega thief he’d spent years chasing during his rotation with the City Guard.

Over the years Thorin had given up trying to figure out if the two hated each other or had a strange courtship going on. Either way he was just waiting for it all to erupt and for them to either fight or fuck to get it out of their systems. But in front of his young, impressionable nephew was neither the time nor place for it.

Kíli, however, ignored the rising tension, eyes still fixated on the knife in the omega’s fingers. Giving a wiggle the dwarfling slid off of his uncle’s lap, with Thorin’s hands steadying him on the way down, and toddled over to Nori.

In a move not even Dwalin could follow, though his eyes never left the russet haired omega, Nori switched the sharp blade with a silver coin. The metal still flashing as it danced over his fingers.

“Up,” the dwarfling alpha demanded, little arms reaching up for Nori.

The gentle smile back on his lips again, Nori pocketed the coin before hoisting Kíli onto his lap. Wriggling around Kíli rummaged in the Spymaster’s pocket for the coin.

“Nori,” Thorin made an abortive movement towards his nephew, fully aware of the amount of weapons the omega usually stashed on his person.

“Don’t worry, Thorin,” Nori soothed, placing a steadying hand on Kíli’s back as the young one dug deeper, “There’s nothing in there but the coin.”

Both alphas looked at Nori, disbelieving expressions clear on their faces. Neither, however, were willing to remove the young one from Nori’s lap, after all, for a dwarfling at least, omegas were the safest beings to be around.

However Nori wasn’t a normal omega. He was too sharp, too outwardly aggressive and independent to fit in with the softer, more submissive omegas in Erebor.

The difference put many alphas on edge and Thorin had heard of more than one alpha who’d lost a finger trying to force Nori into the Omega Quarter, an area closer to the centre of the mountain, easily protected and solely for the use of the more vulnerable omegas. Though he did worry for him, Thorin’s alpha instincts usually responded to Nori in a fashion more suited for a beta than an omega. It was this that allowed him to truly see that Nori was fully capable of taking care of himself, which in turn allowed him to trust the omega to do his job.

With a squeak of delight Kíli emerged from Nori’s pocket, silver coin held triumphantly in his little fist. Settling back against Nori, Kíli’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he fiddled with the coin, trying to make it move over his too small and clumsy hands, thoroughly oblivious to the adults watching him with fond smiles tilting their lips.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Hush now, petal, it’ll all be fixed soon,” Belladonna cooed, gentle fingers cleaning the small cut on the tender arch of Fíli’s foot.

The dwarfling sniffled, tears making his uncle’s hair stick to his cheeks as he hid his face in Frerin’s neck, little hands clutching desperately at the closest braids. Bilbo stood by his mother, watching his cousin with large watery eyes, his own fist filled with Bella’s skirt.

“It was a mean old rock, mama,” he whimpered, twitching when Fíli flinched as Bella smoothed a dab of healing salve on the cut.

“A mean old rock was it?” Bella mused, carefully wrapping a soft bandage around the tiny foot to help prevent any unnecessary dirt from reaching the broken skin.

“Uh huh,” Bilbo nodded, “It hid in the grass and jumped out to hurt Fíli.”

“You know,” Frerin started, rocking his nephew slightly, “If you wore boots mean old rocks wouldn’t be able to hurt you.”

“Don’t like boots, they squish my toes,” Fíli grumbled, face still smushed against his uncle’s throat.

“Boots are icky,” Bilbo added, nose twitching and wrinkling in distaste.

“Yes, well little bunnies like you don’t need boots,” Frerin teased, playfully tapping Bilbo’s twitching nose, “But little dwarflings and dwobbits do, our feet aren’t as big and tough as yours.”

“Don’t care. Don’t like boots,” Fíli’s tone began to slide towards the more sulky and petulant.

“I’d give up while you’re still in his good books,” Bella suggested with a smirk.

“Fine,” Frerin sighed in defeat, “No boots, but keep a sharper eye out for rocks next time, alright?”

“Yes, Uncle Frerin,” Bilbo chirped as Fíli nodded.

“Maybe we could see if you could feel them out?” Belladonna suggested as she rose from her crouched position in front of the dwarfling with a groan.

“Really?” Fíli asked, peeking out from a curtain of wavy blond hair.

“I don’t see why not,” Bella reasoned, “Maybe you could end up finding the easiest soil to walk on, might keep you away from those icky boots.”

Fíli looked delighted at Bella’s words, Frerin just glared at the mischief making hobbit omega.

“Oh hush, Frerin,” Belladonna laughed, washing her hands in the nearby sink she flicked the excess water at the older dwarf before grabbing a tea towel, “We’ll convert you to our way of thinking about proper footwear someday.”

“You’re idea of ‘proper footwear’ is dirt,” Frerin huffed, valiantly trying to keep his lips from quirking up into a smile.

“Of course,” Bella replied brightly, “Much better than those monstrosities you strap on to your delicate little feet. Perhaps you just need some time to embrace the dirt?”

“No, not again, please Bella no,” Frerin suddenly whined.

“Boys, how’d you like to play hide and seek with your Uncle Frerin’s boots?” Bella grinned, earning herself two mischievous smiles as the lads scampered off, Fíli only limping slightly on his bandaged foot after clambering off of Frerin’s lap, tears forgotten in the face of a new game.

“Come on Bella,” Frerin pleaded, “Last time they hid my boots I had a family of harvest mice take up residence in one of them.”

“And a lovely home they made too,” Bella agreed, grin still lingering on her lips as she set up the kettle for afternoon tea, “Shall we have scones or cake today?”

“You are an evil hobbit, Belladonna Baggins,” Frerin groaned, “And I want scones, with the strawberry jam, not the raspberry.”

“Of course, dove,” Bella conceded, grin growing again at the sound of childish giggles followed by the sound of the front door closing.

If Frerin was lucky, he’d get to his precious boots before the smaller, four legged residents of the Shire found them again.

With a snort of amusement, the hobbit omega headed to the pantry, leaving Frerin grumbling about hay in his socks and teeth marks in his buckles. Dwarves were entirely too easy to tease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any mistakes or something doesn't quite add up in this please let me know, I've kinda proof read it but I'm half asleep right now so something has more than likely slipped past me, but I can't leave it till the morning as I feel kinda guilty not posting anything for a while.  
> This took a while to get written, even though it's not very much, as I've started to write the parts when the hobbits reach Erebor before I forget it (I'm hoping that by the time we get there it'll make you laugh as much as it makes me laugh).  
> My thanks to FiliKiliThorinForever for suggesting, and to SallyPejr for seconding the suggestion that Bilbo be nicknamed little bunny. I now have this idea that when he was a toddler Bilbo came tumbling out of the flower beds, all dirty with his nose twitching. Frerin would've scooped him up proclaiming he'd found a little bunny running amok in Bella's bedding begonias (or something) before tickling the faunt as he hunted for his little fluffy cotton tail.  
> I've a new request. Obviously omegas are little shits, does anyone have any suggestions for pranks they may pull? I've a couple of ideas but pranks aren't really my forte, so any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. If you've an idea for one either leave a comment or you're welcome to message me over on [tumblr](http://sarcasticsmilerrandomness.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warn you now, I'm not particularly happy with this chapter. I'm having a bit of a block which is annoying the hell out of me, I can write about when they're in Erebor, no problem, in fact I've even written the first meetings which brings up some events which I've not written yet and hadn't even thought of occurring but now they're going to have to.  
> So this chapter has been a little forced and if that comes though then I'm really sorry.

“Mama, Mama!”

Bella looked up from kneading dough as her two boys came tumbling into the kitchen; dirt on their knees, twigs in their hair and raspberry stains on their lips.

“Daisy told Petunia,”

“Who told Lobelia, who told Otho,”

“Who told Merimac,”

“Who told Hamson,”

“Who told us that there are _dwarves_ in the market!”

“They have toys!”

“And I suppose you want to go see them?” Belladonna asked, a slightly bemused smile playing on her lips as she tried to keep up with the young gossip vine.

Two frantically nodding heads were her answer.

“And you coming to tell me now has nothing to do with Bungo and Frerin having just headed off for their trip to Bree?”

“No?” Fíli nudged Bilbo at the questioning tone of his answer.

“Nope, definitely not Auntie Bella,” the dwarfling quickly added, sounding more confident than his younger cousin.

Bella quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at the lads, causing the pair of them to change tactics. With such large, pleading eyes directed at her, Bella was hard pressed to refuse them.

“Fine,” she sighed, “Go clean up then we’ll head down to the market to see these dwarves of yours.”

With squeals of delight the lads scampered off to their room. Chuckling under her breath Bella returned to her dough, scooping it into a bowl she laid a square of fabric over the top, the trip to the market should give it sufficient time to rise.

She barely had time to hang up her apron and wash off the remaining flour on her hands before her two younglings came crashing into her legs.

“Can we go now Mama?”

“ _Please_ Auntie Bella?”

“Just let me grab my basket then we can go,” Bella laughed, “I’m sure the dwarves will still be there when we get to market, no need to fret, my little rose buds.”

-x-

The Baggins trio reached the market quicker than usual, thanks to the insistent little hands tugging at Belladonna’s skirts.

“Look boys,” Bella pointed, only slightly out of breath at the brisk walk from Bag End into Hobbiton proper, “They are still here, just like I said.”

Indeed, three dwarves were manning a stall in the far corner of the marketplace. A stall surrounded by excitable fauntlings and indulgent adults.

With a squeak of delight Bilbo grabbed his cousin’s hand and dragged the dwarfling to the stall.

Squirming their way to the front of the crowd Bilbo gripped the edge of the table, gazing in awe at the array of toys before him.

“Look, Fíli, look. That one looks like Uncle Frerin.”

Fíli looked at the little wooden warrior Bilbo was pointing to, squinting at the braided moustache and short beard, taking in the little sword the little figure was wielding before shaking his head.

“No, Adad doesn’t play with swords.”

“He could,” Bilbo argued, rolling his eyes at his cousin. Neither noticed one of the new dwarves heading their way, his curiosity piqued at the Khuzdul word.

“We would’ve seen them,” Fíli countered.

“Not if he hid them. Maybe he plays with them when we’re not around?”

Fíli opened his mouth to respond to his cousin before snapping it shut again as an unknown voice addressed them

“Well snuff out my canary,” the dwarf said, “A dwarfling? What are you doing so far away from the mountains?”

Bilbo puffed up at the words, settling his best glare on the dwarf, even if he did find his hat a bit funny.

“Fíli’s not a dwarf,” he informed him, rather indignant, “He’s a dwobbit.”

“And what is a dwobbit, little one?” the dwarf asked, eyebrow cocked in amusement at the aggravated little omega.

“A hobbit with dwarf ears,” Bilbo stated rather matter of factly.

“Boys, you’re not being rude now then, are you?” Bella asked, finally making her way through the throng of faunts to reach her own.

“No Mama,” Bilbo deflated slightly.

“Then I’m sure you’ve already introduced yourselves to the good Master Dwarf here before subjecting him to one of your explanations.”

Bilbo’s ears pinked as Fíli scuffed his feet, slightly embarrassed at their improper behaviour.

“Sorry Mama.”

“Sorry Auntie Bella.”

“My apologies, Master Dwarf,” Bella smiled at the stall holder.

“None required,” the dwarf assured before sketching a small bow, “Bofur, at your service.”

“Belladonna Baggins, at yours,” Bella replied, nudging her boys.

“Fíli Baggins, pleased to meet you,” Fíli said, bobbing his head in an awkward approximation of a bow.

Bofur’s brows rose in surprise at the introduction.

“Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo huffed, “Also pleased to meet you.”

“And?” Bella prompted.

“And I’m sorry for being rude,” he grumbled.

“Apology accepted,” Bofur grinned, “So what brings you to my family’s humble stall?”

“Toys!” both boys cried, grinning at the hatted dwarf, all previous slights forgotten.

“Well, you’re in the right place then. My cousin, Bifur, makes the best toys around.”

“You don’t make them yourself?” Bella asked as her boys went back to examining the various figures and contraptions on display.

“Ach, no, I can do a bit of carving to be sure, but I’m just a simple miner by trade,” Bofur answered.

“Indeed? And what’s brought a simple miner to our humble Shire? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh it’s no bother. We’re making a bit of a trip, y’see, from the Blue Mountains to Erebor. This is just one stop of many, I suppose, selling my cousin’s toys. Gives us the advantage of earning money and lightening our loads, well at least until old Bifur fills our packs again,” Bofur grinned.

Bella almost started at the mention of Erebor, that far away mountain which had given her Frerin and little Fíli, perhaps she would mention these travelling dwarves to Frerin once he and her husband returned from Bree. But for now she’d play the polite, unassuming hobbit omega and try to keep the newcomers attention away from her dwarves.

-x-

“Swords, Frerin?” Bungo asked, finally finding the dwarven omega inspecting short swords at Bree’s local weapon smith.

“I was thinking of buying Fíli one,” Frerin mused, testing the balance of the sword. It was inferior to anything made by dwarven hands, yet as a beginner’s sword he thought it should suffice, “He’s quickly approaching the age where dwarves receive their first weapon and begin to learn the most basic forms of sword or axe fighting.”

“I see, well this’ll certainly get the neighbours talking,” Bungo chuckled in amusement as he thought of the looks on his fellow hobbits’ faces at the sight of sword wielding dwarves.

“You don’t mind me teaching him?” the uncertainty was clear in Frerin’s voice, even after ten years he still felt the compulsion to seek an alpha’s approval, he knew he didn’t need it, but that didn’t stop him looking for it. The hobbit alpha smiled softly at him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“This is your culture, your heritage, Frerin. Though Fíli is a Baggins, I am still fully aware that he is a dwarf, to deny him this would be to deny who he is.”

“Thank you,” Frerin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do not expect him to learn like a normal dwarfling however,” Bungo added, his smile taking on a mischievous tilt more commonly seen on his wife’s face, “He is, after all, the dwobbit my son has labelled him, I have a feeling he’ll adapt whatever you teach him to whatever he deems more fitting, more suitable.”

“I think you may be right. This task will not be an easy one.”

Purchasing the short sword, Frerin was somewhat surprised as Bungo bartered for his own.

“What..?”

“If you believe for one moment that you’ll be able to teach Fíli without Bilbo wanting to join in then you’ll be proving yourself to be as dim-witted as a Bracegirdle. Like peas in a pod those two, where one goes the other is sure to follow.”

With a defeated sigh, Frerin resigned himself to teaching both of his trouble finding nephews.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“The people know something's wrong, Thorin,” Nori said, leaning against the wall, blade glinting in the light from the forge as he cleaned his nails. “With the autumn months closing in they’re wanting to know why the fields are being more or less left untended while the work crews for the mines are constantly being increased.”

Thorin sighed, eyes fixed on the unfinished blade gradually gaining a heated glow from the hot coals surrounding it.

“They’re asking where Thrain is. They’re asking why haven’t you stepped in yet if your father is unable. They’re questioning the strength of the alphas of Durin’s line.”

Drawing the sword from the fire Thorin returned to his anvil, heavy hammer in hand.

“The people are starting to worry, Thorin, the King is ignoring them in favour of his gold.”

The hammer fell with a _clang_ , the sword was a simple thing. Suitable for a young dwarf about to start basic training.

“Keeping him in power is becoming less of an option. You can’t work around his demands any more, his gold lust is growing, he’s overriding your commands to keep workers were we need them and out of the mines.”

Such a simple sword, as delicate as something of dwarven design could be, suitable for a young, golden omega, far from home.

“We need to start seriously thinking about issuing a challenge, it’s the only option left to us. The people still think favourably of you, Thorin, they’d back you up. I can start to garner support for you this instant, just say the word and it’s done.”

Thorin stared at the unfinished sword, thinking about the young one who would never wield it. He’d tried every option available to him to make the mountain safer. From countermanding his grandfather’s orders to scouring the great library for anything to help alleviate the gold sickness to outright pleading and begging his grandfather to make him regent, allowing the King to spend his days with his gold instead of having to preside over his court.

But it had all failed.

The alpha’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the mountain seemingly pressing down upon them. He thought of his golden brother. Had it really been ten years since he’d seen the young omega?

“Do it. Find who will support my claim and who will not. Once my enemies are known then I shall issue my challenge.”

“My Lord,” Nori sketched a quick bow before slipping from the room to begin his task.

Thorin turned back to the forge, shoving the cooled blade back into the coals with a growl. If this was the path he must take to make the mountain safe for those lost to him then he would do it.

Even if it came at the expense of his grandfather’s life.


	7. Chapter 7

“Today this is your sword,” Frerin said, the soft, sun warmed grass tickling his bare feet as he walked around his nephews, shifting them into the correct stance.

“It’s a stick,” Bilbo pointed out, a puzzled expression on his face as Frerin tapped his ankles, making him shift his legs to a more balanced position.

“Why can’t we play with the swords you gave us?” Fíli asked, smiling as a monarch butterfly landed on the end of his ‘sword’.

“Because neither of you can lift them properly yet and you’re more likely to hurt yourselves than do any training.”

“So we’re playing with sticks?” Bilbo quirked an incredulous eyebrow, a habit he seemed to be picking up from his mother.

“We’re _training_ with sticks till you learn the basic forms of sword fighting, then we’ll move onto wooden swords to build up muscle strength, then when you’re at a stage where you won’t injure yourself or each other by accident, we’ll have a few training sessions with your actual swords,” Frerin explained for what felt like the hundredth time since the boys had been presented with their swords two days prior.

“Why do we have to learn?” Fíli asked, distracted as the butterfly fluttered over to a nearby flower.

“Because, as a dwarf, it’s part of your heritage,” Frerin explained, again. Tucking a golden curl behind the dwarfling’s ear he realised he’d have to start teaching him braiding soon too, “As an omega you only have to learn the basics if that’s all you want to learn, if you want to go further then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Why do I have to learn?” Bilbo asked, nose wrinkling.

“Because, little bunny,” Frerin answered, tapping Bilbo’s nose, “you’ll only get Fíli to teach you afterwards anyway, so I might as well teach you both together so you at least get the forms right.”

Bilbo grinned sheepishly at his uncle’s rather accurate guess.

Smiling indulgently at the lads, Frerin picked up his own stick, twirling it in his thick fingers.

“Now the first thing you need to know…”

-x-

“Go well did it?” Belladonna asked, a barely concealed chuckle tinting her voice.

“You are an evil hobbit, and I may just hate you,” Frerin groaned, words muffled where he had his head resting on his arms on the kitchen table, fingers curled around a warm mug of tea.

 “You don’t hate me,” Bella laughed, nudging a plate of fresh biscuits closer to the dwarf.

“Why couldn’t you have warned me that you spent the days we were away getting them to practice root manipulation? Do you know how many times they made me trip? I’m going to look like I’ve been rolling around in a blueberry bush tomorrow with all the bruises I’m sure I’ll get.”

“Well how was I to know they’d use it against you?” she asked, the glint in her eyes betraying the fact she knew very well her young ones would put their new found skills to use. “It seemed like a perfectly suitable distraction from the dwarves in the market.”

“What dwarves?” Frerin’s head shot up, a trace of panic showing on his face.

“Three of them, seemed quite jolly chaps to be honest.”

“Were they from Erebor?”

“No, Blue Mountains. They were just passing through on their way to Erebor though.”

Frerin slumped in his seat, only wincing slightly as a particularly tender bruise came into contact with the carved wood, “So we’ve been discovered.”

“I highly doubt that, dear.”

“How could we not? They’ll go straight to the King and tell him of golden omegas hiding in this little green corner of the world. We’ll be removed and marched straight back to the mountain.”

“Oh pish, do remove yourself from underneath that rain cloud, you’re making the kitchen terribly gloomy. They’ve many months left to travel between here and your dreaded mountain. Do you honestly believe that a King would believe the words of a miner, toy maker and architect? They saw Fíli once, and he presented himself as any respectable hobbit would, on their journey I highly doubt they’ll even remember him.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Bella sniffed, “Now finish your tea and help me with these vegetables. Or would you rather hack at them with that menacing stick of yours?”

Frerin didn’t even dignify such a comment with a reply, merely lifting his mug to his lips. Though Belladonna seemed sure of their safety, the dwarven omega was less trusting. He knew he’d be keeping a sharp eye on the horizon from then on, with more than just a stick by his side.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“We’ve hit a bit of a problem,” Nori murmured leaning closer to the alpha prince as they watched the two dwarflings playing.

“Yet another to add to our list?” Thorin quirked a dark brow, purposefully ignoring the way Dwalin shifted uneasily by the door as his shoulder brushed against the omega’s.

“I’m afraid so. There’s a large group of council members who refuse to back your claim with your father still alive.”

“But, my father is a beta, he was never destined for the throne,” Thorin frowned.

“I believe they’re more concerned with the fact that his mind is failing, than with the tradition that an alpha must sit upon the throne.”

“What does his mind have to do with this support? My father is not capable of being king.”

“He is easily manipulated, my lord. These dwarves are counting on that to gain favour for themselves and their houses. A puppet or an absentee king is more beneficial to the majority of the council than you yourself would ever be,” Nori pointed out, smiling at his little brother as young Ori took out an entire battalion of Kíli’s little metal army with a well-aimed catapult shot.

“And what do the people of Erebor think? Surely you’ve heard something more from your network?”

“Still wondering what’s going on. Mainly they just want someone, _anyone_ , to fix this mountain before if falls down around their axes.”

Thorin sighed, he wanted to be that someone, but it was a dangerous game he was playing. It would cost him his life if his grandfather or his sycophantic councilmen discovered what he was planning before he could issue his formal challenge.

Watching his laughing nephew play with Ori, Thorin thought of all the reasons he had to see this through to the end.

“Keep an ear out for any change from the people. Let me know if you discover anything that might persuade councilmen to our side that does _not_ include the untimely death of my father.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Nori bowed shortly, “Ori, time to go.”

“Nooo!” the dwarflings cried, clutching one another.

“Can’t he stay for just a bit longer? _Please_?” Kíli begged.

“Please, Nori, just a bit?” Ori added.

“You know Dori would have my beard if we’re late again.”

With a very put upon sigh, something Nori was sure the young beta had picked up from Dori, Ori squeezed Kíli in a quick hug goodbye before clambering to his feet.

“You can always come back and play tomorrow,” Nori offered, scooping his little brother up into his arms and perching him on his hip.

“Can I Mister Thorin, sir?” Ori asked, tipping backwards in Nori’s hold to look at the alpha prince upside-down.

“Oh I don’t know,” Thorin teased, “What do you think, Kíli?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Kíli chanted tugging on Thorin’s trouser leg rather insistently.

“Well I guess that’s a yes then,” Thorin granted, scooping up young Kíli he threw the dwarfling into the air. His excited giggles filled the room as his uncle caught him before resting him on his own hip.

“I’ll let Dori know,” Nori grinned carrying his giggling brother from the room.

Thorin remained with his own giggling armful, thanking Mahal for the exuberance of young ones. Their unwavering happiness had become a brilliant torch, lighting the seemingly endless dark road they seemed to find themselves now travelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, this is kinda meh, only tween Bilbo and Fili wish to talk to me in this so getting through their younger years is like wading though syrup. And the dwarves are being whiny little babies sulking in their mountain refusing to come out. It's all rather frustrating.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Dwalin/Nori interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning (just in case) this chapter does contain harassment of a somewhat sexual nature at the start.

“What’s my pretty little omega doing in this dump?”

Nori barely suppressed an annoyed sigh as a dark haired alpha slid onto the bench next to him, a dirt encrusted hand taking a firm grip of his thigh.

“I’m not yours, Rhodri, I never will be and if you wish to keep your hand then I suggest you remove it from my person,” Nori calmly stated before taking a sip from his mug. The ale wasn’t the best around but considering it came from a rather rundown miners’ tavern it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

“Oh come on, darlin’, don’t be like that,” the alpha cooed, fingers tightening on Nori’s thigh as he leaned closer to nuzzle behind the omega’s ear, breathing in his sweeter scent.

“Last warning, Rhodri, back off or lose your hand,” Nori ground out through gritted teeth, fingers already wrapping around the hilt of his sharpest blade. He knew coming here tonight was a bad idea, he was too close to his heat for it to have ever been a good idea. His skin felt too tight, his body and mind too restless.

He should’ve been making his way to his bolt hole in the Omega Quarter, should’ve been preparing to spend his heat, alone, curled up in his nest of pillows and blankets.

Instead he was in a grotty miners’ tavern being felt up by an alpha who refused to leave him alone while trying to keep count of all the new faces that should be out in the fields, not down in the mines.

“You wouldn’t…” Rhodri was rather abruptly cut off as a large, tattooed hand clamped down on his shoulder and dragged him away from the omega.

“He said no,” the new comer growled.

“And who the fuck are you?” Rhodri growled back, squaring up to the tattooed alpha, even though he barely reached the alpha’s shoulder.

“He’s my alpha,” Nori blurted, practically flinging himself from the bench he wormed his way under a muscular arm to plaster himself against the alpha’s warm side.

“Your alpha?” Rhodri scoffed, “You don’t have one, you said so yourself.”

“No, I said I wasn’t yours, I never said I didn’t have an alpha,” Nori pointed out, trying to ignore the ache settling low in his belly.

His heat was coming on quicker than he’d anticipated. It had likely been triggered by the waves of protective aggression rolling off of the alpha he was currently wrapped around.

“You’re a fucking cock tease,” Rhodri accused, lip curling up in disgust.

“And you’re an arsehole alpha who doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘no’,” Nori snapped, patience wearing thin with the onset of his heat.

“You little bitch,” the dark haired alpha took a threatening step closer to Nori before a rumbling growl made him change his mind. “You need to get control of your omega, teach the bitch his place. On his back with his legs spread,” Rhodri spat before stomping off to the bar.

“Dwalin don’t,” Nori murmured, pressing his hand flat against the alpha’s chest in an attempt to hold him back, “As much as I’d love to see you introduce your fist to his face, I really need to get out of here.”

With a frown dragging down his brows, Dwalin finally looked at Nori.

The omega’s cheeks were flushed, a fine tremor running through his muscles as his breathing picked up slightly.

“Are you…?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

Wrapping his arm around Nori’s waist, Dwalin practically carried the omega as he marched through the tavern door and out onto the fairly empty street.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you were doing?” Dwalin hissed, ignoring the omega’s unhappy whimper as the alpha peeled him from his side to glare at him. “Going to a tavern full of alphas when you’re in heat has got to be the _stupidest_ thing you’ve ever done.”

“I wasn’t in heat when I went there,” Nori hissed back, fighting the urge to plaster himself against the warm alpha again, “I thought I had another day at least before it hit.”

“Well clearly you were wrong. Come on,” grabbing the omega’s upper arm, Dwalin marched them down the street.

“Where are you taking me?” Nori asked, free arm wrapping tightly around his middle as cramps made themselves known.

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“What? Why?” a hint of panic crept into Nori’s voice, he knew of only one reason an alpha would take an omega in heat to their home.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Dwalin bit out, Nori’s panic an uncomfortable blow to his alpha ego, “I’m not leaving you alone, especially round here. I’m taking you back to mine to keep you safe.”

“You’re not my alpha, I don’t need your protection.”

“I know I’m not your alpha,” Dwalin blinked in surprise at how much those words stung, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help. I _need_ to make sure you’re safe, Nori.”

Snapping his mouth shut Nori let Dwalin tug him along. He knew he needed to get somewhere safe, and despite their arguments, Dwalin had always felt safe.

Nori just hoped the big alpha had a comfortable bed he could curl up on.

-x-

Dwalin paced before the closed door of his bedroom. He was beginning to think bringing Nori back to his home was a bad idea. He could hear Nori moaning, thrashing about on the alpha’s bed as he attempted to find a position that helped alleviate the cramps that only mating with an alpha could soothe.

A frustrated growl slipped from Dwalin’s lips as a whimper sounded from the other side of the door making Dwalin’s tightening trousers uncomfortably tight. Roughly adjusting himself, Dwalin growled again, physically all he wanted to do was bury himself so deeply in the omega in his bed that he wouldn’t be able to tell where he ended and the omega began. Mentally, however, instinctually, what he wanted was to go in there and wrap himself around Nori, offering any form of comfort his prickly little thief would accept.

It was a particularly loud whimper of discomfort that decided him.

Yanking open the door, Dwalin strode to the bed, dropping his jacket and boots to the floor before sliding onto the mattress and pulling the small ball of unhappy omega into his arms.

Nori let loose another whimper as he burrowed into Dwalin’s embrace, tense muscles soaking in the alpha’s warmth.

“How you feeling?” Dwalin asked, hands rubbing soothing circles on Nori’s back as the omega trembled against him.

“I feel like I’ve a Mahal damned Balrog clawing at my insides. I hate being in heat,” Nori whimpered pitifully.

“Anything I can do to help?” Dwalin tried, he didn’t like hearing Nori sound like this, it wasn’t normal. He was meant to be cocky, with a sharp smile and sharper blades.

“Other than fucking me senseless? Not really.”

“I’m not fucking you, Nori.”

“Why not? I thought alphas couldn’t resist when they had a pliant omega in their arms,” Nori’s words lacked their usual bite, instead he just sounded defeated.

“Because I was taught better, I’m not controlled by my cock. I actually know the meaning of ‘no’.”

“You say that now,” Nori mumbled, nimble fingers picking at the alpha’s shirt laces, “but what about when this gets worse and I’m begging you to fuck me?”

“This’ll get worse?” Dwalin asked, ignoring the spark of arousal as Nori unlaced his shirt and nuzzled his chest. “Besides, it’ll be the heat begging, not you.”

“You’re not normal,” Nori grumbled, voice muffled against Dwalin’s chest. He couldn’t quite decide if he was glad of the alpha’s restraint or not.

“Neither are you, thief,” Dwalin chuckled.

Nori smiled, a pleasant shiver running down his spine. Maybe this heat wouldn’t be so bad, he thought as Dwalin’s arms tightened around him, if this was the outcome then maybe going to that tavern had been the best idea he’d ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turns out the reason the dwarves were not talking to me was because I was talking to the wrong ones, Nwalin wanted to be heard, even though they're not quite Nwalin yet.  
> I feel I should explain a little about heats. In my 'verse they're kinda similar to periods really in that they happen once a month, you can feel a bit off before they start, and you generally feel like utter shite during them with pretty bad cramps. However the two races are a bit different when it comes to cramps which I've kind of explained in a previous chapter somewhere. Hobbits have it easier and they medicate. Dwarves have it really bad, i.e. curl up in bed, there are miners digging out my insides, kinda bad, but they don't medicate, which has something to do with arsehole alphas. Anyway during a heat it is very easy to arouse an omega, it is also the only time an omega is fertile. Omega heats are not easy for alphas to ignore, their nature can take over if they lose their control and then they'll take the omega, willing or not.  
> Any questions, don't hesitate to ask. Though please bear in mind that most of this stuff I'm figuring out as I go along.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balin has some insights which Nori didn't see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter is just an excuse to introduce more dwarves and an idea I may have slightly stolen from Marco Polo over on netflix, but no matter, it makes sense at least and gave me the opening to bring Balin into the mix.
> 
> No hobbits this chapter but they will return in the next.

Thorin sat at the head of the table in the Great Council Chamber, elbows resting on the stone surface as he buried his face in his hands.

“Why must they be so obstinate, Balin?” he groaned.

“Because they are nobles who sense opportunity like a warg scents bleeding prey,” Balin lamented.

“Is that how they see me?” Thorin asked, lifting his head to look at the beta advisor with tired eyes, “As something weak to be preyed upon?”

“Regrettably your grandfather’s illness and your father’s mental instability have weakened your standing in the Council considerably.”

“Tell me, Balin, honestly, do you believe any of them wish to overthrow me? Do you think any would offer a challenge?” Thorin asked, seeking the opinion of one who’d been raised to fill the position of King’s Advisor. The white haired beta knew more about the Council members and their intentions than even Nori and his network of spies could discover.

“To challenge you would be tantamount to suicide, not even the most foolhardy of the Council would dare such a thing. However there are plenty who would seek to discredit you.”

“Slander?” Thorin frowned, “They would carry out such a dishonourable act?”

“My Lord, there are not many levels to which some members would _not_ sink in a bid to discredit you in the eyes of the people and thus remove you from power.”

“Are any of the Council close to carrying out such intentions?”

“There are whispers, idle thoughts passed about, but nothing of significance has come to my attention as of yet.”

Thorin let out a sigh of relief at Balin’s words, slumping in his chair. He currently had more than enough to worry about without scheming dwarves slandering his name. His relief was short lived, however, as Balin continued.

“I do not believe anything would truly happen, in any case, until your sister is required for another diplomatic mission.”

“Why?” dread sat like a heavy stone in Thorin’s stomach.

“Because it is impossible to garner significant access to your nephew when his mother is in residence.”

“Explain,” Thorin growled, the mere thought of a threat to his nephew setting his alpha instincts ablaze.

“Think about it, Thorin, with you removed, Kíli would be next in line to the throne. The lad is not even six winters, still a mere babe, freshly hewn rock waiting to be carved. In the wrong hands he could easily be damaged, moulded into their broken puppet. Now with you deposed, your grandfather sick, father vacant and sister absent, they’d have free, unguarded access to the lad. The line of Durin wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“So we are all in danger,” Thorin grit out, wondering how they’d missed such a thing. Not even Nori had thought of such a possibility. The mind of a politician was indeed a dark and twisted place if such an idea could surface.

“Until your line is truly secure, without even a hint of its current instability, then yes, you could all potentially be in danger,” Balin sighed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“And where have you been?”

Nori flinched at the question before turning to his older brother.

“Nowhere,” he answered, trying for an innocent smile which promptly dropped when Dori’s nose twitched and his eyes narrowed.

“Why do you smell like an alpha who I know for a fact is not a member of this family?”

“I…I, um,” Nori faltered under the alphas glare.

“Oh for Mahal’s sake, Nori,” Dori growled, “You can’t keep disappearing off with him. What will people think?!”

“That I might actually be settling down?” Nori answered moodily, his older brother had the unfair ability of constantly making him feel like a naughty dwarfling.

“If that rock for brains alpha is courting you without my knowledge or permission then he better keep an eye out because I _will_ be having words.”

“We’re not courting, Dori! We work together, that’s all,” Nori argued, annoyed by Dori’s misguided sense of ‘duty’, “And even if we were courting, the only permission he’d need to seek is _mine_ , I’m not some possession to be passed around and bartered over.”

Dori pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated with his contrary brother. As much as he loved Nori, there were days he wished his brother could be a normal omega, and not go gallivanting about as though he were untouchable. It’d get the omega in serious trouble one day and the silver haired alpha was terrified that he wouldn’t be there to protect him.

“Just go and change, Nori,” he ordered through gritted teeth, “Go wash off his scent then come to the kitchen, I’ve a pot of tea brewing and Ori’s been asking for you.”

“Of course, alpha,” Nori said sarcastically, “Whatever my master commands.”

With a mocking bow Nori stomped to his room.

-x-

Slamming his door Nori let loose a frustrated growl, a dagger flying from his fingers to embed itself in a bed post.

He’d come home to lay low for a while as he tried to get his head around an interesting nugget of information he’d coaxed from a rather drunk dwarf, newly arrived in Erebor.

After visiting Dwalin to let him know he’d be staying with his brothers for a while if anyone required him urgently, Nori had returned home. Hoping to sneak in and wash off Dwalin’s scent before Dori caught him. He knew his alpha brother would get the wrong idea if he caught the scent lingering on his skin. It was his own fault at any rate, having found himself pressed face first against the wall, Dwalin’s body caging him in after he’d accidently snuck up on the alpha. Dwalin had been quick to release him and apologise but that did nothing to mask the scent.

But his plan had failed, Dori _had_ caught him and jumped to conclusions, like always, and now he’d have to suffer through an evening of Dori glaring at him. The alpha’s irritation making his skin prickle uncomfortably.

Flinging another knife in annoyance, Nori listened to it _thunk_ into the wood above the first before stipping down and heading to his wash basin.

The snippet of information on a golden dwarfling would have to wait till later, he had a brother to appease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably point out that Dori is not actually an arsehole, it's just Nori being the strange omega that he is wears on the alpha's nerves and instincts at times. He wants to protect, to shelter. Nori just wants to be free. So they clash. However Dori is also the only alpha Nori allows himself to act like his nature dictates, he can be softer around Dori without fear of repercussions, he doesn't have to be constantly on guard with a sharp word and sharper knife, even when they do fight. True he does still use knives, but only in his room to let off steam. His bed post has a lot of notches which, surprisingly, have nothing to do with sex.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything is rainbows and sunshine in the Shire, aka the Sackvilles are arseholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does contain child bullying.  
> Just a short trip to the Shire, I've been missing Bungo a little.

The door to Bag End slammed against the wall as a distraught dwarfling shoved it open, little body trembling with grim determination and withheld tears as he stomped his way to the kitchen.

“Fíli,” Bilbo called breathlessly, his short legs struggling to keep up when his taller cousin was determined to get away, “They don’t know what they’re talkin’ about, don’t listen to them.”

Fíli just shook his head, refusing to listen to his cousin, the other fauntlings’ taunts echoing in his ears as he rummaged in a drawer till his chubby fingers closed around the pair of scissors.

“Fíli, what are you doing?” Bilbo asked, eyes wide as he stood, frozen, in the kitchen doorway.

Not looking at Bilbo, Fíli grabbed a handful of hair and, taking a deep breath, began hacking at it with the scissors. The sharp blades slicing through the tresses like a scythe through wheat.

“Uncle Frerin is gunna be so mad at you,” Bilbo gasped when Fíli finally stopped, his once shoulder length hair now curling round his ears.

“I don’t care,” Fíli grumbled, scrubbing at his face where stray cut hairs had stuck to the tear tracks on his cheeks, “I don’t wanna be a dwarf.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, not sure what to say to cheer his cousin up, Bilbo looked at the floor.

“I’ve got an idea,” he blurted before disappearing into the pantry, leaving Fíli looking after him, a bewildered expression on his tear stained face.

“I need a bowl,” Bilbo called as he rushed back, a grin settling on his face.

Reaching up to grab a bowl, Fíli held it out to his cousin who promptly dumped two handfuls of flour into it before taking it and traipsing over to the sink.

“What are you doing?” Fíli asked, peering into the bowl that Bilbo was now adding water to.

“I’m making that sticky stuff,” Bilbo answered matter of factly as he stirred the white concoction.

“Why?”

“You’ll see, go sit.”

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Fíli watched Bilbo curiously as the faunt knelt down in front of him.

“That’s cold,” he complained as Bilbo slathered his sticky flour mix over the tops of his feet.

“Sorry, I only had cold water,” Bilbo mumbled, setting the empty bowl aside he reached over to grab a handful of the hair Fíli had left on the floor.

“What…?” the dwarfling started before comprehension dawned as Bilbo carefully stuck the hair to his feet.

“There,” Bilbo grinned, admiring his work, “Now you’ve got proper hobbit feet, no matter what those nasty Sackvilles say.”

“Thank you, Bilbo,” Fíli breathed, staring wide eyed at his now furry feet.

-x-

“Fíli, lad, what happened to your hair?” Bungo asked, shock evident in his voice are he took in the blond locks curling round the dwarfling’s ears.

“I cut it off,” Fíli shrugged, not even looking up from the large book on elvish lore he and Bilbo were reading through.

“I can see that,” Bungo said, crouching down next to the boys spread out in front of the unlit hearth, he gently ran his fingers through the shortened strands, “But what I’m wondering about is the why of it.”

“Because I don’t wanna be a dwarf anymore,” Fíli huffed, sitting up he stuck out his feet for Bungo to see, “Look, I‘ve got proper hobbit feet now.”

“So you do,” Bungo frowned, fingers running over the delicate arch of a little foot, eliciting a small giggle from the young omega, “What made you decide to not be a dwarf anymore?”

“I just did,” Fíli answered sullenly, shoulders hunched as he looked away from his uncle.

“It was the Sackvilles,” Bilbo piped up, earning himself a glare from his cousin.

“The Sackvilles?”

“Yep,” Bilbo nodded, “Lobelia has some of her older cousins visiting and they picked on Fíli for being a dwarf, even though I told them he’s a dwobbit.”

“Fíli?” seeing the dwarfling was close to tears Bungo pulled him into his arms.

“They called me soft footed,” Fíli whimpered, burying his face against Bungo’s chest, fists wrinkling the previously immaculate waistcoat, “They said I was a freak because I had hair on my face, not my feet.”

“They said he couldn’t be a Baggins,” Bilbo added, little body now positively vibrating with indignant anger at the slurs thrown at his cousin, “But he is to a Baggins.”

“Of course Fíli is a Baggins,” Bungo agreed, nudging the dwarfling away from his chest so he could retrieve his handkerchief and wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape. “You’ve always been a Baggins and you always will be. Even if you decide to take on your future alpha’s name, you will still be a Baggins.”

“But the Sackvilles said…”

“Never you mind what those dreadful Sackvilles said, my boy, they’ve never been able to hold their tongues nor keep their unwanted opinions to themselves.”

“So what they said wasn’t true?” Fíli asked, lower lip trembling slightly are he held back his tears.

“Not a single word of it,” Bungo assured, “The Sackvilles are a distasteful bunch, not respectable by any means.”

“So why did they say it?” Bilbo asked, confused as to why anyone would be mean to his cousin.

“Jealousy, I should think. They covet the respectability that comes with the Baggins name. They’re likely jealous that you’ve been given what they want, so they try to slander your name with the ridiculous notion that if they can’t have it then neither can you.”

“I still don’t want to be a dwarf,” Fíli pouted.

“Alright,” Bungo conceded, “But what’s wrong with being a dwobbit? I thought you liked being a bit of both.”

“I do,” Fíli admitted somewhat reluctantly, “But they all keep calling me a dwarf and I don’t want to be. I’m _not_ a dwarf!”

“Then we’ll just have to politely correct people until they understand. How does that sound?”

Fíli thought the suggestion over for a moment before nodding, “Ok.”

“Good. Now then, how about a nice cup of tea and some biscuits to wash away the distasteful words of those nasty Sackvilles?” Bungo asked, groaning as he straightened up from his crouch.

“Will I have to wash off my feet?”

“I see no harm in keeping your feet fuzzy for a little while longer, at least until your auntie Bella dunks you in the bath before bed,” Bungo chuckled, knowing his Belladonna would give Fíli a thorough scrubbing in an attempt to wash away any and all hurtful words thrown at the young omega, just as he was attempting to do with tea.

“Thank you, uncle,” Fíli beamed, tears finally drying as he hugged Bungo quickly before darting off after his cousin before Bilbo could claim and devour all the best biscuits. Smiling at his boys’ antics, Bungo wandered into the kitchen to set the kettle to boil.

Tomorrow he would pay a visit to the Sackvilles. The Baggins’ alpha could tolerate a great many things, including, but not limited to, having honey in places no self-respecting hobbit should ever find it. However, he would not, under any circumstances, tolerate anyone upsetting his boys nor slandering the Baggins name.

No. The Sackvilles would most certainly be having a visit on the morrow.

But for now he had tea to make, two energetic omegas to entertain, and a few damage control plans to devise for when Frerin and Belladonna returned from the market and the dwarven omega caught sight of Fíli’s new hair length.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies that this took so long to get out. My writing has kind of been all over the place and I've been doubting everything I've written so far, while trying to figure out various things about this verse which won't screw with what's already written, and yoyoing back and forth over whether to kill someone or not. I actually have a fair amount of this story written but it's in broken bits and pieces that need fitting together and/or lengthening or its so far in the future that it won't be uploaded for quite a while.  
> I've been trying to figure out ages in this as I'm really screwing with them. So to help you understand a little (and it is likely to only be a little as even I don't understand much more yet) here's the age information I've got so far:  
> \- Hobbits and Dwarves have the same lifespans, both cultures come of age at 33 (kind of the equivalent of 18 in human years).  
> \- Dis had Fili not long after coming of age, probably about a year or so after, she had decided to get all of the childbearing out of the way early so she wouldn't have to deal with it later in life (I may do a side story about this one day).  
> \- Dis is the youngest, there's about three years between Dis and Frerin, and about five between Frerin and Thorin.  
> \- Vili is one year older than Dis.  
> \- Dwalin is a year younger than Thorin and Nori is a year younger than Dis (I think)  
> \- Bungo and Belladonna are older than Thorin.  
> I've not worked out exact ages as, frankly, I'm a historian not a mathematician, numbers make my head hurt.  
> I've also got some more information on omega heats and female alpha seasons, but this note is already getting rather long so I may put all the information in a tumblr post that I update as new information comes to light.  
> Oh! and I've written a side story...if you hadn't already noticed from that whole 'part 1 of...' thing. It's a pre-story Dori and Nori oneshot.  
> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and commented, it's all greatly appreciated.  
> Also this story only has me to proofread it before posting, I know I miss stuff, if you spot a mistake or something, please let me know.
> 
> Edit:  
> I got some information together about this over on [tumblr](http://sarcasticsmilerrandomness.tumblr.com/post/134076164067/right-so-in-most-aob-verses-omega-heats-are) if you're curious, it might help explain a few things. Any questions just send me a message, or comment, your choice.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Council Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today.  
> Oh this chapter does contain a short moment of violence, but, frankly, with what's planned for this story, the moment here is barely worth mentioning.

“We need them in the fields,” Thorn grit out, closing his eyes he attempted to take deep, calming breaths as the voices of the Council rose in volume.

For months he had been arguing this fact, watching the seasons change as the Council blocked his every attempt to send their farmers back to their fields where they needed them. He’d watched as they’d grown fat and bloated on the stores they’d purchased at unreasonable prices, effectively preventing those truly in need from even having a chance of obtaining even the most basic of food stuffs from the markets or city granaries. He’d watched them become weighted down with the gold and jewels that we’re supposed to be destined for his grandfather’s treasury, conveniently escaping the notice of the treasurers, who themselves seemed to be growing ever richer. He’d had to watch as their confidence in their plans grew, watched the sheen of gold madness fall over some of their eyes as they sneered at him, called him _Little Prince_ and belittled his attempts to help Erebor’s dwarves.

The calm, logical betas of the Council were soon drowned out by the selfish, overconfident alphas. Even Balin struggled to make himself heard.

Thorin rubbed at his temple, a headache already forming as the Council continued to shout at him. Hurling slanderous words at him that Nori was beginning to hear echoed in the mountain.

_Little Prince_ , was whispered in tavern corners and darkened alleyways, _Powerless King in waiting_.

Balin had warned him all those months ago, warned him of the whispers being used to discredit him. Cowards, the lot of them, to use such dishonourable tactics to quiet his voice. He was loath to admit that it was a tactic that held some success. Already people doubted him, thought him incapable of protecting those it was his sworn duty, as Crown Prince of Erebor, to protect. Regardless of what Nori’s network was doing to counteract the doubt, the insidious whispers still made themselves known.

“Enough!” he roared fist slamming against the table, the action silencing the Council for but a moment, but it was all he needed to be heard, “We _will_ bring the farmers out of the mines and send them back to their fields. The mountain needs food, not more gold or gems. Such things are worthless when a dwarf’s stomach is crying out in hunger.”

“You do not have the authority to order such a move.”

“I am the Crown Prince of Erebor,” Thorin growled, “Of those sitting here, I have the _only_ authority, and I _will_ see this order carried out.”

“Crown Prince you may be,” an alpha sneered, greying beard heavy with clinking gold beads, “But it was the King who ordered all available dwarves to the mines and there they shall stay till the King decides to release them.”

Thorin’s sharp reply was abruptly cut off before he could even utter a single word as the doors slammed open, King Thror, himself, marching into the Council room.

“What is this I hear of betrayal in my Kingdom?!” he boomed.

“His Highness, the prince, is trying to steal away your miners from under your Majesty’s nose,” the suddenly sycophantic tone made Thorin’s skin crawl.

“Is this true, boy?” Thror snarled, gold mad eyes boring into his grandson.

“I only wish to remove the farmers, grandfather, return them to their fields,” Thorin tried to reason, standing from his chair to beseech the mad old king.

“Steal my miners, will you?! Steal my gold?!” Thror bellowed, storming the last remaining steps to stand chest to chest with Thorin, “You ungrateful, thieving whelp! _I am your King!_ You do not steal from me!”

“I’m not stealing from you,” Thorin tried again, “I’m trying to help. If the farmers do not tend to their fields then food stores will run lower than they already are. You have refused to release more funds to purchase more stock from elsewhere multiple times, so the farmers must return to their fields. If they do not then dwarves will die and the flow of gold to your treasury will slow to a trickle before running dry.”

“Lies! You spout nothing but lies, you Prince of the Paupers!” Thror shouted, spittle flying from his lips to hit Thorin’s face, “You will not have my workers and that is the end of it! Covet my crown and my gold, you may, but neither will be yours till I’m cold in the stone! Till such a time you _will_ follow my orders!”

“But grandfather…” Thorin struggled yet again to make his grandfather see as the old King turned from him.

“Enough!” Thror thundered, spinning back to Thorin the King lashed out, backhanding the alpha prince hard enough to send him tumbling to the floor at the unexpected blow. Blood trickled down his cheek from where one of the King’s many rings had sliced into his cheekbone, “I am your King and my decision is final! This Council meeting is dismissed!”

“Yes, my King,” Thorin grit out, swiping at his bloody cheek with his sleeve as he rose to his feet.

With some difficulty he ignored the Council members sneering at him as they filed out after the King.

“Come, laddie,” Balin coaxed, “Let’s get you to Oin.”

“That was no random appearance, was it Balin,” Thorin stated rather than asked, blood still boiling at how his grandfather had humiliated him and undermined what little authority he had remaining.

“No, laddie," Balin sighed, "I dare say it wasn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've recently discovered that if I listen to the Dragon Age: Inquisition sound track then I can write the dwarves, and if I listen to the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks I can write the hobbits (and dwobbit). It's strange, but it works, I've now an entire 'Political Timeline' sort of planned out, there's 25 points to it (of which this chapter is number 7) and that's before the Hobbits are made aware of Erebor's situation. (When I tagged this story as slow burn, I bloody well meant it.) I'll warn now that there's some fairly gruesome things planned as I'm taking some inspiration and ideas from history (I'm technically a historian so it was bound to happen at some point), politics is a messy business.
> 
> In case you missed it in the previous chapter I've typed up some information on heats and such [over on tumblr](http://sarcasticsmilerrandomness.tumblr.com/post/134076164067/right-so-in-most-aob-verses-omega-heats-are) in an attempt to clear some things up when it comes to my particular Middle Earth.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - chapter contains body mutilation and torture, of which the torture is only really alluded to and the mutilation isn't particularly graphic.

Thorin paced in front of the fire, fingers twitching to his cheek before dropping back to his sides; the scabbed over cut itched but he’d had his hand smacked away by Dis too many times to risk scratching it.

“How could he have known?” he muttered, “He never comes to a Council meeting halfway through.”

“Let Nori do his job then you’ll have your answer,” Dis said, not even glancing up from the throwing axes she was sharpening.

“But what if he doesn’t find anything?” Thorin grumbled.

With a sigh that was distinctly motherly in tone, Dis lowered the axe and looked at her brother, “Thorin, this is Nori we’re talking about, he’ll find something, that little omega always does. Now sit down before you wear a groove in the floor.”

“I can’t sit, I need to do something.”

“At the present moment there is nothing you _can_ do, grandfather has won this battle but that does not mean he’s won the war.”

“True, but he and the Council seem to be winning all the battles.”

“That’s not entirely true, nadad, and you know it.”

“Do I?” Thorin asked, raking his fingers through his hair, rings catching on the dark strands.

Dis’ answer was cut off before it even began as the doors opened and a bloody, bruised dwarf came stumbling through; Nori, following closely behind, calmly closed the doors before turning to those present in the room.

“I come bearing a gift, my Lord,” he said, nudging the dwarf before him, sending him to his knees, “May I present the messenger responsible for Thror’s untimely arrival.”

“What is your name?” Thorin demanded, now having a target for his frustration he moved closer to the kneeling dwarf.

His only response, however, was a glare and a mouthful of blood spat in his direction.

“Ah, yeah, about that, he can’t answer you,” Nori said, nonchalantly scrapping drying blood from under his nails with a wicked looking blade.

“And why is that?” Dis asked, eyebrow raised as she looked to Thorin’s spymaster.

“I may have cut out his tongue,” Nori shrugged.

“Nori,” Thorin sighed, exasperated.

“What?” defensiveness tinged the edges of Nori’s tone.

“How are we to question him now?”

“He can still write, can’t he,” the omega said nodding to the bloody dwarf’s undamaged hands.

“Did you have to make this harder than it has to be?” Thorin asked, gesturing to Balin to fetch the necessary writing equipment from the desk he was currently reviewing trade documents upon.

“He tested my patience,” Nori shrugged, unrepentant.

“How?” Dwalin wondered out loud, standing straight from where he’d been leaning against his brother’s desk.

“Kept spouting bullshit about Durin’s line, I told him he could either still his tongue or lose it. Stupid bastard kept going and I don’t offer empty threats to slag heaps like him.”

“Your name,” Thorin ordered again, shoving the quill and parchment at the battered dwarf.

_My Lord will see your head on a pike_ , he wrote in shaky runes.

“Helpful,” Dis quipped, coming to stand beside her brother, “Nori?”

“Don’t know yet, just know he’s the one who told Thror what the meeting was about. He works for one of the alphas of the Council, not sure which one yet but I’ve narrowed it down to four, possibly five.”

“That’s still too many,” Dwalin grumbled, the potential for such a number of active betrayers within the Council making him twitch in agitation.

“If you think you can narrow it down quicker than my people, then by all means, be my guest,” Nori sniped, grandly gesturing to the bloody dwarf, the frustration seeping off of the three alphas in the room making his skin itch uncomfortably.

“Torturing people rarely gets the results you desire,” Balin pointed out with a sigh.

“Who said anything about torture?” Dwalin asked, hauling the dwarf to his feet, “I was thinking more of a nice, _hot_ bath. The water should loosen him up right quick.”

“He still needs to be able to write, Dwalin,” Balin called as his brother marched the bloody dwarf from the room, a feral grin on his face.

“I won’t go past his waist,” Dwalin promised, waving away Balin’s words before the doors closed behind him.

“He’s gunna stick him in the pot?” Nori asked, still looking to the doors Dwalin had disappeared through, the alpha’s desire to protect and aggressive search for answers strangely titillating.

“Slowly,” Thorin said, wishing he could join Dwalin in extracting answers but knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate to be seen going with the other alpha to carry out the task.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Now we’ve got the water on to boil, it’s time to peel the veggies,” Bella said, turning to the lads sitting at the table, giggling as they poked at the pile of carrots before them, “And what are you two tittering over?”

“The carrot, mama,” Bilbo snickered.

“It looks rude, auntie Bella,” Fíli giggled.

“Rude?” Bella asked, gesturing for the offending carrot she huffed out her own laugh, “Those Took cousins of yours have been in my garden again.”

“They can make it grow like that?” Fíli asked, wide eyed.

“Of course they can, and so will you with a bit of practice. Just don’t tell Bungo or Frerin, awfully stuffy those two, there’s far too much Baggins in the pair of them,” Bella huffed fondly, turning the carrot that had been coaxed into the shape of the lower half of a males body, with its two ‘legs’ and additions between that has set her boys to snickering, “Well time for carrot man to have his trousers stripped before we drop him in the pot to soften him up enough that we can mash him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't that good and for that I apologise, quite frankly, I'm stuck. I'm trying to keep everything straight in my head but it isn't working, and now the dwarf timeline is moving faster than the hobbit one which isn't good, and I'm worried I'm dragging this out too much and it's going to get boring because of it. I'm going to start skipping years again to try and combat these issues I'm encountering.  
> I'm going to start using elements of Tudor history in this story as it fits rather nicely and is also my area of study so means I don't have to go thinking up how something would work, honestly it'll just be titbits of information that I've found interesting (such as the boiling of a person in this chapter, which actually happened in London where they lowered the guy inch by inch into a cauldron of boiling water). Also I've come to realise that Elizabethan spying suits Nori quite nicely so after a bit more general research I'll be adding some more Nori-centric chapters.  
> Oh and in case anyone's wondering, the term 'slag heap' used in this chapter refers to the waste material produced after smelting metals, I thought it'd be a suitable derogatory slur for dwarves to use.  
> Also if anyone spots any discrepancies, things that don't seem to add up, please let me know as with everything I've got written and that's running round in my head, I'm highly likely to miss things.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a hobbit-y interval, quite frankly with all of Thorin's problems I think we need it.  
> Takes place about two years after previous chapter so the boys are about 12/13.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I warned in the previous chapter, I'm skipping time. Only a couple of years, a mere blink in the eye when it comes to dwarven politics. This was delightfully easy to write so I don't regret the skip.  
> I hope you enjoy.

“Fíli. Fíli quick, he’s coming!” Bilbo hissed, dodging through the tall corn stalks to his cousin’s side.

“Already?” the blond omega asked, stuffing a final ear of corn into his bag with the carrots and parsnips they’d pilfered earlier, “I thought we’d have more time.”

“Well, you were wrong,” bilbo’s heart fluttered like a frightened rabbit when the sound of howling reached their ears.

The dogs had picked up their scent.

“Oh bumblebees,” Fíli cursed under his breath, settling the bag more firmly on his shoulder, he grabbed Bilbo’s hand and took off running. If they were lucky they’d reach the farm’s boundary before they were caught.

“Faster, Bilbo.”

“I’m trying,” Bilbo panted, “You’ve got longer legs than me.”

“We’re almost there, almost there…” Fíli chanted, the broken rail in the fence was in sight, just a little further and…

“ _Oof!_ ”

Fíli stumbled to his knees as Bilbo collided with his back; spinning in the dirt, Fíli turned in time to see a large, black dog pick his cousin up by the scruff of his dusty shirt and shake him like he was a disobedient pup in need of a thorough scolding. A second dog stared at Fíli, making the young omega freeze lest he receive the same treatment.

“The Baggins lads? Bit young to be trying my fields aren’t ya?”

Looking up from his cousin hanging rather dejectedly from the dog’s mouth, Fíli turned his eyes to the old hobbit omega emerging from the corn stalks, the disapproving frown on his face causing the old hobbit’s wrinkles to deepen, making them more resemble the cracks in a dried up riverbed than the usual soft furrows of his beloved fields.

“Anything to say for yourselves before I take you home?” hands on his hips, the hobbit tapped an impatient foot.

“We’re sorry, Master Maggot,” the boys said, small voices thoroughly contrite.

With a nod of acceptance at their apology, he stepped closer, “Put him down, Thistle, there’s a good girl.”

Bilbo dropped to the floor before quickly rising to his feet with a wince. Farmer Maggot’s fingers were stronger than they looked as they gripped his ear, Fíli’s soon received the same treatment as they were marched from the field.

“Thistle, Hawthorne,” Farmer Maggot called over his shoulder, “Stay and protect the farm, I’ll be back shortly.”

-x-

Opening Bag End's round door, Bungo found himself confronted with old, sun wizened farmer Maggot.

“Good afternoon, Master Maggot, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit on this fine day?”

“Afternoon, Master Baggins,” Maggot greeted, tugging the boys forward, “I found some pests in my fields, I do believe they belong to you.”

“Ah, yes, that they do,” Bungo agreed, retrieving his boys from Farmer Maggot’s grip; it was a thing he well remembered from his own youth trying to keep up with his Belladonna.

“Have you boys apologised for the trouble you’ve caused Master Maggot?”

Rubbing their sore ears, the boys nodded.

“They have indeed, Master Baggins, though I suggest they keep to their pastry pilfering from now on and leave my fields alone.”

“Of course, Master Maggot. Thank you for returning them and also my apologies for any inconvenience they have caused.”

“That’s quite alright,” Maggot huffed, “Good day.”

“What,” Bungo started after firmly closing the door, “on Yavanna’s green earth possessed you boys to make you think Farmer Maggot’s fields were a good target for scrumping?”

“Um, we thought we’d be quick enough?” Fíli offered up in answer, muddy heel scuffing against the hardwood floor.

“Well clearly you weren’t. You’re still too young and inexperienced yet to take on such a challenge.”

“But we almost made it,” Bilbo groused, pouting slightly.

“Oh my boys, my dear, dear boys,” Bungo chuckled, causing the boys to look up at him, tentative smiles on their faces, “You are, today, without a doubt as Tookish as our Belladonna. Now off to the kitchen with the pair of you.”

Grinning the boys scuttled off to the kitchen with their bag of plunder, Bungo’s own smile grew at Bella’s proud crow and Frerin’s confused questions.

“You took on that old walnut? Oh my rose buds!”

“Walnut? Maggot? What is it they’ve done this time?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of a time jump.
> 
> Thorin's frustrated, Frerin's uncomfortable, and Bilbo and Fili are teenage girls.

It had been a hard few years, eking out whatever victories he could; victories which under normal circumstances wouldn’t have been called such, like arguing for the dwarves injured in the mines to be sent out to the fields. It had worked for some of the more injured and less productive dwarves, but even with these few returned the harvests were meagre.

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning as he went over the new reports from the city guards. The situation with the food was encouraging thieves, badgers, and poachers; the guards were beginning to stretch themselves thin in their attempts to curb the behaviour of those stepping outside of the law.

A frustrated growl slipped from his throat at yet another report of a badger driving the price of grain too high in the lower quarters for some of the few remaining law abiding families to buy. It was money grabbing idiots like this that were pushing more and more good dwarves to stealing and poaching; every month the amount of deep cave fish turning up in the markets was increasing, their pale, eyeless bodies splayed out for others to buy at ridiculous prices. It was dangerous getting those fish, the deep caves of Erebor nearly impossible to traverse, even for dwarves.

Thorin knew he had to do more than his pitiful attempts in the Council, but for every step forward he managed to take, the King shoved him two steps back.

Efforts to eliminate or undermine the more dangerous of the Council members had only resulted in the King appointing alphas from the more greedy and sycophantic noble houses.

Attempts to purchase more grain from neighbouring settlements with his own yearly allowance had ended with his allowance being lessened and his accounts placed firmly under the ever watchful eyes of his Majesty’s treasurers.

The only thing he’d managed to do was keep his nephew safe, and even that had almost failed in the two attempts made to kidnap the dwarfling that had somehow managed to slip passed Nori.

Tossing the reports aside, Thorin rubbed at his tired eyes. Yes, he’d kept one nephew safe, but about his first sister-son, he had no clue. About his own brother, he had no clue.

Fifteen years.

It had been fifteen years and he was no closer to making the mountain safer for the golden omegas of his family.

Fifteen years and not a single sighting or word of Gandalf. Thorin’s only chance of discovering anything about his hidden family frustratingly absent.

Fifteen years and all he could do was pray to the Maker that they were safe, that they were happy.

Shoving away from his desk, Thorin stomped from the room in an attempt to escape his morose thoughts; after but a moment’s thought he headed for his forge, he had designs that needed to be finished before he could start work on Kíli’s first blade, though with the way the lad eyed his father's bow, arrow heads might be more appropriate.

 -----------------------------------------------------------

Music and laughter filled the air, the scent of food drifting, mouth-wateringly, on the gentle breeze. With his belly pleasantly full and a mug of the Gamgee’s finest ale in hand, Frerin relaxed on a bench to watch the hobbits dance; paying particular attention to the dark haired alpha lad currently making his golden nephew blush as he spun him round to the music.

“Frerin, my dear, how are you?”

Holding back a groan Frerin turned to the old omega making herself comfortable beside him.

“I’m well this evening, Adamanta. Yourself?”

“Oh no complaints, dear. It was a lovely wedding, was it not?”

“It was indeed,” Frerin answered politely, fighting the urge to flee. He was a dwarf, of Durin’s line no less, they stood their ground…but at that moment, Frerin would’ve happily hidden in a deep mountain cave to escape what he knew was coming.

“So, taken an interest in any strapping young alphas recently?”

“No, can’t say that I have,” Frerin cringed at the question.

“Oh? And why ever not? Handsome, young lad, such as yourself, can’t be lacking in admirers.”

“I’ve no desire to bond with any alpha.”

“Bond? Oh, my boy, who said anything about bonding,” Adamanta Took tittered, “Oh no, Yavanna forbid I suggest such a thing. But a little dalliance? Now that I could whole heartedly support.”

“Dalliance?”

“Yes, you know a good bit of ploughing can set the world to rights.”

“I…” Frerin squeaked, flushing to the tips of his ears. Fifteen years and he still wasn’t use to how open and, at times, blunt hobbits could be. But in all fairness, he shouldn’t have expected any different from the mother of Belladonna Baggins.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be an alpha, of course, if you’re that way inclined. Why just last week in the market, I heard one of those young Brandybuck omegas admiring the way the sun made your hair positively gleam. Like a drop of it had fallen from the sky, she said.”

“D-dwarves don’t have dalliances.”

“Why ever not?”

“It’s not proper for an omega to…to sleep with anyone other than their alpha, and even then that’s only once they’ve bonded and the omega’s heat has struck.”

“What a load of codswallop,” Adamanta sniffed, “Utterly ridiculous. What’s wrong with a good roll in the hay? Everyone knows a good relationship is like a good recipe, it takes times, tweaks, and a good deal of taste testing.”

“I didn’t make the rules,” Frerin pointed out somewhat glumly.

“Well, you’re practically a full hobbit after all these years, though you’re more of a Baggins than I’d like, but still! I think it’s about time to indulge in a bit of fun,” with a resolute nod, Adamanta looped her arm through Frerin’s and pulled him from the bench, ale sloshing over the rim of his mug as he tried to keep his balance.

“I can assure you, Adamanta, I’m perfectly fine,” he tried.

“Nonsense! Now where is that lovely Brockhouse lad?”

“Mother? What in the blazes are you up to now?” Belladonna asked, suddenly appearing at Frerin’s elbow.

“Young Frerin and I were just about to go talk to young master Brockhouse over there, weren’t we lad?”

“I…um,” Frerin stuttered, throwing pleading looks Bella’s way.

“Are you trying to matchmake again, mother?” Bella asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion even as her lips twitched in their want to smile.

"You would accuse your poor old mother of such a thing?” an age worn hand fluttered to Adamanta’s chest in mock affront.

“I would and I do. You leave Frerin alone, if he wants to have a spring fling then that’s his decision not yours, you nosy old thing.”

“Well I suppose I can just turn my attentions to my darling grandchildren then, they’re of an age for their first blushing romance after all,” Adamanta sighed wistfully, finally releasing Frerin’s arm to start her search for her next victim.

“And keep your mitts off my boys!” Bella called to her mother’s retreating back.

“Where _are_ the boys?” Frerin asked once he was finally safe from Adamanta’s matchmaking attempts.

“Bilbo’s over there, dancing with one of the Gamgee lads it looks like.”

“And Fíli?” he asked after a scan of the dancing hobbits didn’t reveal his nephew…or the dark haired alpha.

“Perhaps he’s gone to get more food? Don’t fret, Frerin, he’ll be fine. Now go find Bungo, he’ll keep you safe from mother’s clutches.”

-x-

The moon had almost reached its peak when Bilbo snuck into his cousin’s room.

“Fíli?” he whispered, “Are you awake?”

When no sound came from the lump under the blanket, Bilbo huffed.

“Fíli,” quietly making his way to the side of the bed, the young hobbit omega shook his cousin’s shoulder.

“Uh, what?” Fíli grumbled, blue eyes blinking sleepily as he tried to glare at his grinning cousin.

“Oh good you’re awake. Budge over,” with an unrepentant grin Bilbo shoved the sleepy dwarf over before clambering under the covers.

“What d'you want?” Fíli asked before burying his face in his pillow to stifle a yawn.

“What did Hugo want to talk to you about?”

“Um…”

Bilbo watched in fascination as pink spread across his cousin’s cheeks, the blond fuzz covering them only highlighting the colour change instead of hiding it.

“Come on, tell me,” Bilbo whined, poking a heated cheek.

With an embarrassed huff Fíli swatted at Bilbo’s hand.

“Tell _mee_!”

“Fine!” Fíli hissed, “He gave me a lilac.”

“A lilac? What colour?”

“Purple,” the dwarven omega mumbled, his cheeks getting hotter.

“Really?” Bilbo beamed, “Anything else?”

“He, um, he kissed me,” Fíli admitted before trying to smother himself in the pillow as Bilbo squealed excitedly.

“He kissed you?! Where?”

“On the lips,” said lips quirked into a small smile as a blue eye peeked at the hobbit positively vibrating with excitement.

“What did it feel like? Was it special? Was it magical?”

“It was….” Fíli paused for a moment, brows creasing as he tried to think of an apt description, “Squishy.”

“Squishy?”

“Yeah, but a good squishy. Made my lips tingle a bit.”

“Oh, he _likes_ you! Do you like him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? But he’s a Bracegirdle, uncle would never forgive me.”

“I suppose he has nice green eyes,” Bilbo mused, ignoring Fíli’s Bracegirdle comment.

“I prefer brown,” Fíli huffed.

“Ugh, you’re such a mole,” Bilbo rolled his eyes, playfully shoving his cousin’s shoulder, “Always prefer things that look like the earth.”

“Says the one who likes blue eyes because they remind him of the sky on a clear summer’s day,” Fíli cocked a rather mocking eyebrow.

“Oh hush. Are you going to meet up with him again? Do you think he could be _it_? Is he going to court you?” Bilbo gasped.

“I’m too young to court,” Fíli squeaked, “He wouldn’t, would he?”

“Maybe, I’m pretty sure it was him I overheard the other day talking about hair the colour of wheat in the morning sun blowing in the wind, or something like that.”

“Well he’ll never be a poet, that’s for certain,” Fíli’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

“So if he’s not the alpha for you, then what do you want?”

“I want an alpha like autumn,” Fíli mused.

“Autumn? What, fat off the harvest and chilly?” Bilbo snorted, earning himself a light punch to the arm.

“No, you turnip. Like the colours, all warm browns, and untameable like the fallen leaves dancing in the wind. I want them to be loving and cosy, like being wrapped in a warm blanket with a mug of tea in front of the fire.”

“That sounds nice,” Bilbo hummed, “But I’d still rather have an alpha that’s all summer sky blue and deepest night black. Endlessly beautiful and always there, no matter what.”

“Now we just have to find them,” Fíli snorts.

“I’m sure they’re out there somewhere,” Bilbo mumbled before a yawn broke free.

“Finally tired?” Fíli asked, earning himself a nod, “Feel like going back to your own bed?”

“Course not, my bed’s cold,” Bilbo answered, snuggling down under the warm quilt.

“It wouldn’t be if you had stayed in it,” Fíli grumbled half-heartedly, eyes drifting shut as they both fell into dreams of summer skies and dancing autumn leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this, thank you to everyone who had left kudos, and thank you so much to everyone who has left a comment.  
> Right, so I know nothing of the language of flowers, but according to a little side scribble in my notebook purple lilacs symbolise the first emotions of love, apparently.  
> Badgers were real things, I had to research them for an essay once a few years ago, basically they were people who'd buy up grain in one place then sell it for an inflated price elsewhere, or buy it prior to the harvest then have the monopoly on it. They weren't generally nice characters.  
> This was actually meant to have a bit explaining how Fili comes to use two swords instead of one, but it morphed into a party instead and Frerin being on the end of relationship questions every singleton dreads when holiday season or family get togethers come around. And poor Adamanta became the unfortunate family member who you love dearly, but could also quite happily throttle.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short filler chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, its been a while since I last updated, my apologies for that, I've been a bit stuck and trying to work my way through it.  
> Admittedly this is something of a short filler that's kinda been sitting on my laptop for a while now.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, warm and inviting, a gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers and warm, fresh bread through the air. It was an almost perfect day to be outside, a fact Bilbo greatly lamented as his forehead made solid contact with the wooden top of the desk.

“Why do I have to learn this? Numbers hate me and Fíli’s better at it anyway,” he grumbled, refusing to lift his head, even though he was very much tempted to glare at his cousin when the older snorted quietly, quill scratching diligently against parchment.

“Because everyone needs to learn the basics of mathematics, and as my heirs you both need to learn that extra bit more. Finances and rents don’t add themselves up you know, you need to engage that quick thinking mind of yours, my lad,” Bungo explained, ruffling his son’s hair.

“I’d rather wear uncle Frerin’s boots,” Bilbo muttered under his breath as he finally raised his head to pick up his quill and grimace at the numbers on the page. He was much more suited to languages and literature, not this mathematical rubbish; that was more Fíli’s area, his dwarvish side preferring the more ridged structure of numbers, than the easy flow of words.

-x-

“So what was it you wanted to talk about?” Frerin asked, with his face tilted into the warmth of the sun and his eyes closed he didn’t see Bella carefully lower her cup to its saucer, nor did he see the speculative look sent his way.

“Well, my mother made me think, what with all her matchmaking attempts, that perhaps it’s time to talk to the boys about sex. It won’t be long before their heats start, a few years at most, and I’d rather they be prepared for when they start looking at others in a more covetous fashion.”

Frerin nearly choked on his own tea at Bella’s words, spluttering out, “What?”

“Sex, Frerin,” Bella smiled, “You know, that thing between two individuals? Rather physical, but can feel rather wondrous if done right.”

“I…I know what it is,” Frerin could feel the tips of his ears burning, this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, “but why are you telling me?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you about the whole dwarven side of it, after all Fíli might have questions that I might not be able to answer. So I was wondering what dwarven parents tell their tweens when its time?”

“We, um, well we just basically get told that our heats make us fertile and an alpha is the only way to stop it hurting. We’re, omegas that is, not to sleep with anyone but our alpha and our first time will be during our first heat after we’ve been courted by and married to our alpha,” Frerin mumbled.

“You…that’s all you were told? Just wait for an alpha and they’ll do all the rest? No other useful information, nothing about the actual physical act? Not even a word about sex outside of a heat?”

“Pretty much. Alphas get told more, but, of course I wasn’t really privy to that.”

“Well that’s utterly ridiculous!”

“I didn’t make the rules,” the words sounded bitter even to Frerin’s ears.

“No, some block headed alpha of your race likely did,” Bella huffed, “I swear if I ever come face to face with one of those confounded dwarves I’ll…I’ll…well I’ll most certainly _not_ be inviting them to tea!”

Frerin couldn’t help but chuckle at Bella’s outburst, it was such a Baggins’ thing to threaten and never sounded right coming from the thoroughly disgruntled Took beside him.

“Well, there’ll certainly be _one_ young dwarven omega that’ll have sufficient knowledge in this area,” she stated, sipping rather primly at her tea, “Not giving omegas a proper education in this of _all_ areas, _honestly_! The utter _nerve_ of your alphas!”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Kíli? Kíli are you listen to me?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you a question, young prince, do you think you could pull you head out of the mines long enough to answer it for me?”

“I know the answer, Mister Balin,” Ori’s timid voice piped up.

“I know you do lad,” Balin sighed, “But it’s the prince I asked, it is his own family history I’m asking after, after all.”

Kíli frowned, he had no idea what Balin had asked, too busy doodling on the piece of slate before him to really pay attention.

Seeing that Kíli truly hadn’t been listening to a word he said, Balin repeated the question, “Which of your ancestors is responsible for founding the kingdom you currently reside in?”

“Um, Thror?” Kíli guessed, wincing when Ori kicked him under the table. He glared at the young beta frantically shaking his head at him, it wasn’t Kíli’s fault that he couldn’t remember. History was boring and filled with yet more people who couldn’t play with him, although, he reasoned, they had a better excuse than most considering they were long since dead and returned to the stone.

“Not quite. Thrain I is who founded the kingdom,” Balin corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even though he’d only been teaching the lads for a few months, he had a sneaking suspicion that young Kíli would take after most of Durin’s line and be thoroughly stubborn and difficult when it came to lessons. It was Balin’s hope that bright young Ori would help bring his friend into line so that the prince might actually learn _something_ of use in his time under Balin’s tutelage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't too bad for you to read, I've figured out an age plan for the hobbit side of things and a political timeline for the dwarf side of things, I'm hoping it'll help me keep on track and you won't be waiting months for another update.  
> So following that up next should be sex ed, mild 'heart break', mentions of starlight, and a confused beta.....in theory, as I've still got to write most of it.
> 
> I figured out a while ago what baby Fili looks like with his more hobbit-y hair, [I made a post with it on tumblr](http://sarcasticsmilerrandomness.tumblr.com/post/137514887767/so-i-keep-seeing-return-to-treasure-island-on-my) if you're curious.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'heartbreak', stars, and a confused beta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this appeared quicker than anticipated.

Belladonna thanked the apothecary as she turned from his stall in Hobbiton’s bustling market, tucking two small tins into her basket. The tins contained a salve that was smooth and slick, but not sticky, perfect for omegas who needed that little bit of extra help when not in heat and for alpha males who enjoyed swapping positions.

Humming to herself as she perused the fishmonger’s wares, she made a plan on when to talk to her boys. On the morrow, perhaps, though over afternoon tea would probably be best, she reasoned, with Bungo squirrelled away in his study looking over accounts and Frerin having accepted an invitation to tea elsewhere, it would be the only time that day she’d have their undivided attention.

Accepting the neatly wrapped salmon she had chosen, Bella slipped it into her basket and headed home, a veritable spring in her step as she went. She was expecting embarrassed flushes and maybe some stuttering from her boys, Baggins raised as they were, but it was high time they had the knowledge, and a suitable salve, to start exploring their own bodies before they started thinking about exploring others.

-x-

“Something the matter?” Bilbo asked absently, licking the tip of his finger to turn the page of his book as Fíli flopped down next to him with an irritated huff.

“Oh no, course not,” the blond muttered sarcastically, crossing his arms over his drawn up knees, he buried his face in the fabric of his shirt sleeves.

“Well if nothing’s the matter then…” Bilbo trailed off, turning back to his book.

“Of course something’s the matter!” Fíli practically exploded.

“How am I supposed to know that if you don’t tell me?”

“I saw Hugo kissing Merriweather Bolger!” Fíli blurted.

“He…what?” Bilbo blinked at his cousin in shock, “But he only kissed you last week, and only _yesterday_ he asked you to go for a walk with him!”

“I know! But he was kissing her behind the stables nonetheless.”

“Oh that, that, blighted little _weed_!” Bilbo cursed before he frowned in confusion, “Wait, I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t,” Fíli grumbled, voice slightly muffled where he’d buried his face in his arms again.

“Then why are you upset over it?”

“I’m not upset, I’m annoyed!” Fíli glared at Bilbo, but his cousin could see the hurt lingering.

“Fíli?”

“I don’t like him, _I_ _don’t_ …”

“But…” Bilbo coaxed, book now completely forgotten on his lap.

“But he didn’t even have the _decency_ to tell me he didn’t want me either. It’s not _respectable_ or, or, _proper_ to make someone think you want them only to go off and cavort with someone else!”

“Well the Bracegirdles aren’t exactly what anyone would call proper _or_ respectable,” Bilbo shrugged, it was a rather well known fact in their household, considering Bungo was often heard grumbling about them.

“Not the point,” Fíli groused, pouting as he slid down to rest his head on Bilbo’s shoulder, “What are you reading anyway?”

“That book of Elvish legends mama found in Bree the other month.”

“Anything good?”

“Well there’s quite a bit of fighting, and right now there’s this thing called a Balrog that’s made up of shadow and flame.”

“Doesn’t sound natural that,” Fíli shuddered.

“That’s because it isn’t,” Bilbo rolled his eyes at his cousin, “Want me to read to you so you can forget about your tragic heartbreak that could rival that of the heroes of old?”

Fíli swatted at his cousin for that remark, making Bilbo laugh and jostle Fíli’s head where it was still resting on his shoulder.

“Just read, you turnip,” Fíli grinned.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Elves, Ori, there’re going to be _elves_!” Kíli squealed, tugging on Ori’s knitted sleeve excitedly.

“I know, Kíli, I heard what Mister Balin said too,” Ori grumbled, tugging his sleeve from Kíli’s grip. Balin had told them their lessons for the day would have to be cancelled as an elven delegation was due to arrive for which Thorin required his council.

“We have to go see them!”

“No, we don’t,” Ori’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Yeah we do, come on, Ori, just a little peek,” Kíli whined, “We’ll hide somewhere they won’t find us then come back here after. We won’t get in trouble.”

“Promise we won’t get in trouble?”

“Promise,” Kíli grinned.

“Ok, just a little peek though, then we’ll come back here,” Ori hesitantly agreed.

With a squeal Kíli grabbed Ori’s hand and tugged him from the room, running down the corridors leading to some of the walkways with a view of Erebor’s entrance hall. Twice they had to quickly skid behind a statue to hide from guards patrolling close to the royal chambers, but through sheer luck they remained unseen.

“Look, Ori, look,” Kíli gushed, voice barely above a whisper as he practically flailed in the direction of the Elven delegation.

“I don’t get what’s so special about them,” Ori said, head tilted to one side as they watched the elves glide into the mountain to greet Thorin.

“They’re so pretty,” Kíli sighed, eyes fixed on the long red hair of one of the elven guards, little fingers reaching out as though he could touch if he only reached far enough “Like, um, like stars.”

“Stars?”

“Yeah,” Kíli nodded enthusiastically, the few small braids the servants had managed to weave into his fine hair that morning slipping free with the vigorous movement.

They stayed to watch the procession move deeper into the mountains, as the last elven guard disappeared Ori began to fidget.

“Kíli, we should go back now,” he said, tugging on Kíli’s hand.

“Can’t we stay just a little longer?” Kíli whined.

“I think my little brother has the right idea, little prince.”

The familiar voice caused both boys to spin on their heels, wide eyes fixing on Nori where the omega was leaning against a pillar, shrouded in shadow.

“Nori! We were just, um, we were…” Kíli stuttered.

“I know _exactly_ what you were doing, and I think you’ll find I’ll be having a little chat with Dwalin about the guards being so inept as to let a couple of dwarflings slip through their grasp. It’s not safe for you to be wandering about like this,” pushing up from the pillar, Nori held out his hands to the boys, “Come on, let’s get you back before someone kicks up a fuss when they find you missing.”

“Nori?” Ori asked, happily swinging Nori’s hand as they walked, “Will you be coming home for dinner tonight?”

“’Fraid not, kid, it’s nearly that time of the month when I need to disappear for a few days.”

“Why?” Kíli asked.

“It’s an omega thing,” Nori shrugged, “You’ll find out about it when you’re older.”

Kíli huffed, he hated it when adults told him that. He was too young for everything it seemed.

Too young to go with his parents when they went on their ambassador trips.

Too young to stay with his Uncle Thorin while he watched over the mountain.

Too young to understand what was wrong with his Grandfather and Great Grandfather.

Too young to wander around the mountain that was his home.

…too young to be staying up past his bedtime, waiting for someone from his family to come home and tuck him in at night.

Kíli sighed, following where he was led, little hand wrapped in Nori’s, as Ori chatted happily to his brother.

-x-

Thorin’s boots almost dragged along the floor as he made his way to his chambers. The day had been long and the elves difficult.

A tiny change to their trade agreement, that’s all he asked, but clearly the request was too much.

Massaging his temple in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that was promising to blossom into a rather substantial headache, Thorin turned a corner and froze.

Before him was his father, wandering around the corridor outside of his rooms dressed in naught but a nightshirt, bare feet slapping lightly against the cool stone floor, a confused expression on his face.

“Adad, what are you doing out here?”

“Thorin?” turning, Thrain stumbled to his son, grasping his arms tightly, “Where is she, Thorin? I-I can hear her calling me, where is she?”

“Where’s who, adad?”

“Your mother. Where is she? Her voice was so _clear_ , I was sure she was close by. Perhaps she has wandered again, she likes to wander the mountain. Always has done, ever since we were wee things, getting in trouble being in places no dwarfling has any right to be.”

With a gentle guiding hand, Thorin nudged his father back into the safety of his rooms, it pained him to see Thrain in such a state but there was nothing that could be done. His father’s broken mind was yet another thing he couldn’t fix.

“She’s not here, adad,” he said softly, “Come on, you should be in bed.”

It took more coaxing and patience than Thorin truly had to get his father back into bed, but eventually he managed it, though his father refused to let go of his wrist.

“I hear her, Thorin, my âzyungel, she calls.”

“Hush, adad, sleep,” resigning himself to having to stay till his father finally drifted to sleep, Thorin perched on the edge of the bed, his free hand stroking over his father’s hair.

“I know she is out there, she looks for me,” Thrain’s voice slurred as he gradually fell into sleep’s waiting embrace.

Thorin sighed as his father’s breathing deepened and his grip loosened. As quietly as he was able, he slipped from Thrain’s chambers and continued on to his own. He desired nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for an Age, free from the problems and worries that plagued his every step. Unfortunately, he knew that was about as likely as getting the damn elves to agree to the new trade agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turns out the sex talk will be next chapter.  
> Please forgive me for these chapters not really moving anything along overly much, I'm trying to get myself back into writing this story again while pulling different fragments of pre-written stuff together.  
> Also I'm not entirely sure where the bits of baby Kili angst are coming from, they just kinda appeared, which is odd considering I'm generally more a fan of Fili angst than Kili.
> 
> Oh and if you're wondering about ages, well Bilbo and Fili are about 15 and Kili and Ori are about 10.

**Author's Note:**

> Nadadith - younger brother  
> Nadad - brother  
> Adad - father  
> Namadith - younger sister
> 
> Any translations are words I've seen in other fics.
> 
> Feel free to come visit me over on [tumblr](http://sarcasticsmilerrandomness.tumblr.com/) I should probably warn you, however, that there are spoilery type things for this story over there, not massive spoilers, afterall I barely know what's going on most of the time, but just little bits, snippets, of things that'll happen or potentially happen.


End file.
